The other day I crossed paths with the early morning preschool mom who complimented me on my amazing outfit. I made doubly sure to tell her that it was my wedding anniversary that day and I was meeting my husband for a fancy lunch at Preservation Kitchen. I copped to the infrequency of my actually getting gussied up in heels because it just so rarely happens.
I swore I would never be a sweatpants mom. I used to see them on my way to work, dropping off their children with messy hair, sloppy sweats and a smile. I wondered how it was that I could manage to get dressed, do my hair, get makeup on and make it to the office on time while they looked like they barely rolled out of bed. Well, they have kids, that’s why.
Who knew it could take a good solid hour to get one small human being fed and dressed (and he’s a boy so I don’t have to deal with any of the hair fiascos my mom-of-girls friends contend with in the morning) or just how many things can get lost, flushed or derailed all in the time it takes to make a brown bag lunch? I certainly didn’t.
So, sure, I’ve tried to pass off my slippers as boots, shopped the aisles of sporting yoga pants and a ponytail with zero intention of actually visiting the gym and I’ve certainly driven through my share of drive-thru coffee stands in my PJs. I keep a collection of hats in the hall closet to hide the bed-head. And I’ve joined the ranks of moms in the pick-up line, covered in whatever kid-goo we didn’t notice, sporting tennis shoes that will never see any court action.
And I know I’m not alone. I’ve met hundreds of moms through and I can happily report that the majority of them are just as comfy in their own skin (and clothes) as I am. The only women who come in dressed to the nines are the ones that are trying to sell me something. It’s nice to feel you are not sticking out like a sore thumb amongst your peers, so I’m going to stick with my new mommy uniform.
If I could offer any advice in the “what not to wear” category is would be to forget those low-rider jeans ladies. There is no way to look cute and sexy when you are bent over with your rear and muffin top hanging out while hoisting up your toddler. Leggings are great, but do yourself a favor and bend over in front of a mirror at home first…as opaque as they may appear, fabrics stretch and reveal much more than you intend! I've been informed that the proper term for this is "Shear in the Rear". And do yourself a solid and stop by a local upscale department store and get yourself properly measured for a bra. You will be amazed to realize that you are probably off on your width and cup size.
