Turning Forty-Two Tuesday: Pants Are Not Always Bullshit*

You know you've lost any fashion cred you may have had when you own something called, "formal yoga pants". Well, technically, they are the Starfish pants from Lands End. (I linked to them because I love them and recommend them even though I get no credit/money/love for doing so). Anyway, I was talking to my wonderful friend Lisa the other day and explaining why I haven't been to book club in forever. 

Me: Sometimes I just don't want to get out of my yoga pants and go out in public.

Lisa: I just wear my yoga pants. 

Me: Oh, I'm not talking about my good yoga pants, I'm talking about. . .

Lisa: The ones with the holes in them?

As the conversation continued, I realized that I have 2 levels of yoga pants: holey and formal. "Formal" meaning I wear them out in public and I work out in them and may have been out to dinner in them. The kind I would totally wear to book club, if Hot Guy didn't always seem to have rehearsal or something happening on book club nights. But it's the holey ones, the ones I would have turned into rags a few years ago, that are my favorites. 

I have not worn them in public yet, but I fear it might happen if all of my formal yoga pants are in the laundry and I have to run to the grocery store at 10pm because I've forgotten to make the brownies for the following day's class party. 

At almost forty-two, I know I'm not going to embrace lounging in jeans or other attire that is appropriate in public. Frankly, the world is pretty fortunate that I consistently wear a bra and don't run around in my flannel pajama bottoms. So either I'm going to have to patch the holey yoga pants, or buy more Starfish pants. 

Are patched yoga pants really any better than pajama bottoms, though? 

*With apologies to Aunt Becky, who might disagree. 

Is Your First Grader Stylish Enough?

I need to move. Not because of the exorbitant cost of living here, or because of the atrocious driving of other residents (FYI, making a left turn does NOT mean you have the right-of-way, folks) or because of all the times my children's behavior has embarrassed me at the library and the park. It's because of the ad I saw in the county magazine.

The fact that I live in a county that has its own upscale magazine - there's not even a Gap ad in it - is disturbing enough. But when an ad for a children's clothing store in said magazine also mentions "Back-to-school personal shoppers" I know that I am in the wrong place. I can't quite get my head around a third grader needing a personal shopper. As a matter of fact, even if I win the lottery tomorrow (it's sad how many sentences I start that way), I still won't be getting a personal back-to-school shopper for the kiddos. . ..EVER.

Would a personal shopper have talked my mother out of all the Healthtex outfits she dressed me in during the '70's, which all featured floral corduroy pants and matching turtlenecks? Quite possibly. Would a personal shopper have talked me out of wearing nude hose, socks and jazz shoes throughout seventh grade? Maybe. Certainly the personal shopper would have forbid me to wear bright purple eye shadow the following year. But would that have taught me anything? What kind of character can you build if you never look at old pictures and cringe at your sartorial mistakes?

I fully support most of the ways we protect our children these days. I like the safer playgrounds. I think helmets are great. I believe that parents should know who their kids are playing with and what their kids are learning. But I think trying to protect our children from fashion mistakes is taking things too far. Or maybe these parents just want their kids to be the best dressed kids at school - what a great lesson for impressionable elementary school students.

So I think I need to move. These are not the kind of people I want my kids to befriend. Unless this phenomenon is national? Does every kid have a personal shopper these days? Am I hopelessly out of touch?

Why Am I Even Thinking About This?

I have no style. I won't even dignify my the clothing I've been wearing for the past few years by calling it "stay-at-home mom" style. Style implies choice. Going by what's clean and what still fits is not making a choice.

It's not like I used to be super-fashionable or anything. But I was aware of trends, aware of what looked good on me and had a certain look. Friends would say, "I saw this blouse at such and such and it's so you! You have to go check it out." I don't think anyone would say that to me today, unless they saw v-necked solid color t-shirts on sale somewhere.

It's not just that I'm pregnant, either. This has been going on far longer than that - maybe since I was pregnant with Ironflower. Even though I lost most of the weight that time around, my body had changed. And my life certainly had. Comfort began to take on a much bigger role and spending money on clothes for myself made me feel guilty when I had a closet full of clothes that would fit me if I ever started eating sensibly again. Which I swear I'm doing after this one is baked.

But even supposing I do manage to lose all this weight (meaning the baby weight and the chocolate weight I'd gained since we moved), I still won't know what the hell to wear. Before, I had work clothes (casual with an edge), club clothes (Black, short and/or sparkly) and sweats. Since I'm not going to work outside the home for a while and you couldn't pay me to go into a club, I'm really lost. I fear matronly clothes and clothes that have to be ironed.  I don't actually want to wear sweats ALL the time.

Every time I want to look decent, I wear a black shirt, jeans or a denim skirt and black boots. It's not that I don't like the outfit, but I've been wearing it for five years. I generally hate the outfits I see in fashion magazines. Where should I look for inspiration?

(Don't ask me why I'm obsessing about this now, when looking like anything but a giant pear is months away.)