Getting Ready as a Love Language

April 10, 2025

Writer: Bennett Ismert

Editor: Ana R. Zarate

For many of us, the most meaningful part of the night isn’t the main event. It’s not the bar, the dance floor, the crowded party. It’s the in-between — the getting ready. The quiet (or chaotic) hour before, when bodies huddle around one mirror, songs play from a phone speaker and lip gloss is passed around like communion.

“Do you think this dress is too much?”
“Wait — turn around. Okay, yeah, that’s the one.”
“Who wants me to do their eyeliner?”

This is girlhood. 

There’s something sacred about the pre-night ritual. The way it unfolds so naturally: one person doing their hair while another lines lips; the blur of mascara wands and curling irons; citrusy perfume lingering in the room. The playlist bounces between nostalgic throwbacks and brand new bangers, and someone’s always adjusting their outfit with a half-laugh, half-sigh. It’s messy, tender and full of grace. It’s about feeling seen before you step out into the world.

To get ready with someone is to know them — really know them. Their insecurities, their go-to necklace, their “good side.” It’s zipping up their dress because they can’t reach it, blotting their lip gloss, lending them the shirt you swore you’d never let anyone borrow. It’s sharing a mirror and taking turns with the eyeshadow palette. It’s care, in real time.

In a world that so often tells us beauty is competitive or for someone else’s consumption, getting ready together is a soft rebellion. It reframes beauty as something collective, not performative. There’s power in the way we hype each other up, in the unspoken agreement that we want one another to feel our best.

Getting ready with friends isn’t just about lip gloss or outfit checks — it’s the soft launch of the night’s energy. It’s where confidence builds quietly, piece by piece, between songs and shared glances. In those moments, the pre-party becomes its own destination: a room charged with excitement, vulnerability and the kind of unspoken support that makes you feel unstoppable before you even walk out the door.

Years from now, we may forget where we went or what time we got home. But we’ll remember the living room-turned-dressing-room, the bathroom-turned-makeup-studio. Someone handing us a mirror and saying, “You look perfect.” A snapshot of girlhood where beauty rituals became memory markers, stitched into late-night laughs and half-done eyeliner.

And maybe that’s the most beautiful part of all.