Class.
It isn’t revealed in your middle-parted hair, or woven along with your braided locks. Nor is it imprinted on your floral skirts. It isn’t heard in the loud clanks of your high-heels on the way to Sunday mass. Nope, it isn’t seen in the vintage clothes you wear. And it surely isn’t reflected off of your hand-me-down pearl earrings.
Class is not based on attire.
It’s when you know who you are, and where you stand. You adapt to whatever comes your way because you know that eventually things are going to be okay. It’s when the only thing that rules your mind is peace. Cool, calm and composed— that’s your motto. Even when you want to run out with a heart full of anger, you stay. Even when you feel like screaming out loud, you pray.
Much like beauty, class runs deep. Unlike last year’s summer dress, it’s something you’d actually want to keep.
