“I Hope You’re Polishing Those White Shoes for Easter Sunday”

Let me just start by saying: I hope you're polishing those white shoes for Easter

Sunday. You know the ones. The little white patent leather ones with the scuff on the

toe that only shows up in photos. Or maybe the baby blue loafers that used to match a

perfectly pressed seersucker suit and a cowlick smoothed down with a little too much

gel. I’m talking about Easter clothes, y’all.

Not Target leggings. Not “just in case it rains” sneakers. I mean the dresses with bows

bigger than the child’s head. The ties that never sat quite straight. The crisp shirts. The

pastel madness. The fashion parade that started in the church parking lot and didn’t

stop until the last deviled egg disappeared from the potluck table.

Where did it go? And more importantly… do we want it back?

A Walk Down the Easter Runway (Also Known as the Church Aisle)

If you grew up anywhere in the South (or honestly, anywhere in the U.S. before 2010),

you probably remember getting dressed to the nines on Easter Sunday.

Girls in smocked dresses so intricately detailed you’d think they were heirlooms

(because they usually were). Boys in tiny bowties and loafers, tugging at their

suspenders like miniature lawyers. Moms with fresh curls, Dads in pastel shirts, and

somewhere—usually by the door—a bottle of perfume that only came out for Jesus and

weddings.

This wasn’t just a tradition. It was a moment. A sacred rhythm that said, “We’re going

to church. And not just any church service — Easter church.” Because if we believe

Easter Sunday is the biggest celebration in the Christian calendar — the literal

resurrection of Jesus — then shouldn't it look like it?

But Somewhere Along the Way… We Got Comfortable

Now, I’m not judging. I, too, have shown up to church in an outfit that whispered “last

minute” rather than “hallelujah.” Life is busy. We’re working moms. We’re juggling

meal prep, toddler meltdowns, last-minute school projects, work deadlines, and the

spiritual (and literal) load of our families.

And honestly, most churches have become more relaxed, too. Come-as-you-are is not

only accepted — it’s encouraged. And that’s a good thing. The doors should be wide

open. Jesus never required a dress code. And no one should feel like they have to

perform or pretend to be worthy of grace.

But here’s the thing. There’s a difference between dressing up for show and dressing

up to show honor. There’s a difference between “I have to look perfect” and “This day is

sacred, and I want to reflect that—even if it’s with a baby wipe and a wrinkled button-

down.”

What We Wore Wasn’t Just About Clothes

It was about effort. Intention. Setting the day apart. Teaching our kids — and

reminding ourselves — that Easter isn’t just another Sunday. It’s the Super Bowl of

Sundays. When we pulled out the white shoes and the pastel bows, we were saying

something bigger:

•  This is important.

•  We are celebrating.

•  Jesus rose from the grave. And yes, He’s getting our best today—even if we’re 15 minutes late and someone spilled jellybeans in the car.

Fashion and Faith: A Tangled Pair of Tights

Let’s be real: putting together Easter outfits for the whole family can be a lot. The

smocked dresses are pricey. The little-boy-suits rarely survive juice boxes and grass

stains. And sometimes the only thing that fits is a kind of mustard-yellow shift dress

that makes you feel like a librarian on safari.

But this isn’t about impressing anyone. It’s about expressing something.

When you take the time to get dressed up for Easter, even if you’re dragging yourself

out the door with one earring in and a toddler refusing pants, you’re saying: This

matters. Even if your kid’s seersucker suit is from a resale app and your daughter’s

bow is more Dollar Tree than designer — you’re making a memory. You’re giving your

children a picture of reverence and joy. A moment where they see you honor God, not

just with your Sunday schedule, but with your whole heart. Including your wardrobe.

The Easter Outfit That Instagram Forgot

It’s easy to think “nobody cares what I wear to church.” And to some degree, that’s

true. People are more worried about parking and finding a seat than judging your

hemline. (We hope.)

But your kids notice. Maybe not consciously. But they feel it. When Mom says, “We’re

dressing up for Easter,” what they hear is: “This day is big. This day is joyful. This day

is holy.” And let’s be honest — when you’re wrangling a family out the door with five

minutes to spare, having a shared sense of purpose (and maybe a bribe of post-service

candy) can work wonders.

So… Are We Bringing Back Easter Fashion?

Look, I’m not saying you have to bust out the gloves, the hats, and the white lace gloves

(unless you want to — in which case, please invite me to your church, because I need

to see that). But I am saying: let’s bring back the effort. The joy. The reverence.

Let’s dig out the smocked dresses and the tiny bowties. Let’s shine the loafers and try

to find the match to that one elusive white sandal. Let’s pull out that dress we’ve been

saving and throw on some lipstick that hasn’t seen the light of day since 2022.

Let’s make Easter feel like Easter again.

Practical Tips for the Working Mom Who Wants to Try

Okay, okay. You're inspired — but also overwhelmed. I see you. So here are a few no-

pressure, grace-filled tips to make Easter special without losing your ever-loving

mind:

1. Plan Early-ish

Like, now. Make a Pinterest board. Or don’t. But at least check the closets this week

before Saturday night panic sets in.

2. Keep It Simple

Matching pastels? Sure. Coordinated tones? Great. One bow that hasn’t been chewed

on by the dog? Perfect.

3. Buy Secondhand or Borrow

Children grow like weeds. Smocked dresses can cost more than your car payment. Try

resale apps, consignment shops, or text your mom friends. Sharing is caring — and

budget-friendly.

4. Make It Fun

Let the kids “model” their outfits for Dad. Play music while getting ready. Celebrate

the morning like you would for Christmas — because Easter is just as magical.

5. Take the Picture (Even If It’s Chaos)

You will want that photo. One day, your grown-up kid will look at that 2025 Easter pic

and laugh at their crooked bowtie — but they’ll remember. And that’s the whole point.

Because at the End of the Day… It’s Not About the Clothes

It never was.

It’s about the heart behind them.

It’s about teaching our kids (and ourselves) that this day is different. That this is the day

death was defeated. That love rose again. That the tomb is empty, and heaven still

rejoices.

And yes — we’re going to look a little bit fabulous while we celebrate it.

So go ahead, mama. Dust off the patent leather. Iron the little collar. Dig out that wide-

brimmed hat that makes you feel like a First Lady. Or just do your best with what

you’ve got.

Jesus wore a crown of thorns. We can manage a dress shirt.