Moving down the Edinburgh sidewalk like it was their own personal catwalk—this boss Bride-to-Be and her posse of Bridesmaids. Their dresses could not be shorter, their boots higher. Their laughter and cussing filled the city block, personalities as bold as their outfits. Long hair waving like flags establishing territory.

October must be wedding season (and here we were celebrating our own 36th anniversary. That evening we witnessed 4 similar parties—groups of women wearing beauty contest inspired sashes letting everyone know, we’re out for a good time and NO ONE is stopping us.

Then in stark contrast the next day at a museum, these wrought iron masks looking out at me from behind a glass case. Strangely interesting forms with sinister histories—used to punish and silence women accused of slander or swearing. Though my immediate reaction was silent horror, I cussed generously the rest of the day in honor of these ancient sisters.