Wardrobe dilemmas

not jeans

NOT jeans

Spring is coming (supposedly) and I am having a mammoth what-to-wear crisis. I’m officially a SAHM (stay at home mum to those who get pee’d off with acronyms), much the same (I believe) as a housewife, homemaker, full time mother (never quite understand this one, you don’t stop being a mother when you’re at work – never mind, questions for another day) etc.

So with my ‘work clothes’ safely filed away for future use I’m living my life pretty much 100% in jeans (obvs the exception being overnight, I love my jeans but there are limits).

But I just can’t help feeling that I ‘should’ be putting more effort into my outfits. I basically look a scruff pretty much all of the time. Why? Because I’m just a bit lazy. And comfort is paramount.

Yes, I know the arguments for not wearing decent clothes when you’re traipsing round on the floor playing cars/dinosaurs/tea parties all day. And it’s hard to muster the motivation to don your favourite LBD when it’s immediately going to be covered in Weetabix, vomit or paint (or all three). But I spend my entire day looking like I’ve just thrown on my post-daytime outfit comfies. Which, in a way, I have.

Pinterest is no bloody good. Search for ‘SAHM style’ (cringe-worthy of the highest order) and you’re bombarded with images of glam-looking mums wearing all sorts of ensembles that just aren’t going to cut it in soft play – never mind be easy access for breastfeeders.

There is also the very real issue for many mums who have waved goodbye to their salary that you just can’t go on big shopping sprees any more. There is so much other stuff to buy and (for now) your wardrobe is not going to take precedence.*

If you read my post on my jeans, you’ll know I do live in them. Maybe that’s ok, maybe I don’t need to be wearing skirts or (gasp) dresses. Maybe I don’t need to bin the denim in order to maintain some modicum of style (or at least look like I’ve made a slight effort). But I do know I ought (self imposed pressure, you’ll understand) to at least make a bit of effort with the rest of the ensemble. And just maybe feeling like I’ve made an effort to join the yummies out there will stop me feeling like such a scummie.

 

*I say many. I’m sure there are a fair few mums who don’t work outside the home (Jeez, we really have to be sensitive with our job titles these days) who can and do spend lots of time and money updating and maintaining their style. Jealous, moi??

 

 

 

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Jean Genie

It may have something to do with being born to ex-hippy Beatle-maniac parents, but since the age of about 10 I have lived in jeans. Every now and then I vow to wear a skirt or (gasp) even a dress but I can’t bring myself to. Or, mostly, I just forget. My excitement about going on maternity leave for the first time was more about the fact that I could wear jeans every day for a year and less about the new life I was about to bring into the world.

Now that I am on maternity leave indefinitely, it seems unlikely that I am going to kick my denim habit any time soon.

Which is just as well as I have been stocking up. Knee-high to a (diminutive) grasshopper, I find it incredibly difficult and frustrating finding clothes that fit. I have a loyalty card for the local alterations shop. But I don’t always want to fork out another £10 to essentially cut off and throw away some of the clothing I have just bought.

In a quest to find the perfect skinny, I bought a pair of Next petite 360 super skinny jeans. Wow! Is all I can say. I am still buzzing a month (and two additional pairs) later. Unusually (even for a petite range) they are not too long, the high waist doesn’t dig and (if I may say so) they make my bum look fab. I feel pulled up and in in all the right places.

Jeans and tea

Apparently they are constructed to give you 360-degree movement. I don’t know what that means, but can only assume that other jeans from the same retailer may hinder your ability to spin around. These certainly do not.

Seems, though, that the dresses and skirts are set to gather dust for a little while longer.

Jeans pose

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Getting it wrong

Getting it wrong

Sweet Jesus, this entry could be about anything. I’m not even going to list the things I have/may have/am about to get wrong. I wouldn’t be finished and my dinner (lovingly prepared by my husband (and Cook) would be cold).

The one thing I keep getting wrong of late (probably always but I have noticed it more so recently) is my outfit.

It may not be a coincidence that it was, in fact, the same outfit worn twice in close succession that has been wrong on (at least) two separate occasions.*

First outing – and in fact this leads on from an outfit fail a couple of weeks ago. So, to backtrack…it was bloody freezing on the week in question. Snowing, if I remember rightly. A friend had requested my presence on a park walk – I nearly PMSL when she wondered out loud why the park was so empty – IT WAS FREEZING and SNOWING (not the fun snow, the cold, wet non sticky stuff). I digress, I met her wearing my thick warm padded coat and Ugg boots. Not even my overactive thyroid was going to keep me as warm as those (albeit naff) beauties. She was wearing HEELED BOOTS. WTF indeed!

So, when she requested my presence on another walk early last week, I turned up in my (not high you understand) heeled boots and smart coat. Said friend was in trainers and sports gear (still managing to look much more glam that me). What? Nobody sent me the memo. 5 miles later and dearly wished for my trainers (or at the very least my faithful Uggs).

To everyone’s surprise my outfit remained (relatively) baby sick-free so was completely wearable a couple of days later. To cut a long story (involving a patio door shop based excursion to Wimbledon and a circuitous drive to Richmond Park) short. I was blindsided by the promise of a ‘concrete path’ and blocked the (very relevant) ‘park’ word out of my outfit plans. Needless to say, I ended up freezing and totally unsuitable attire by about lunchtime.

My smart coat and heeled boats then enjoyed a two-hour deer hunt complete with long wavy grass, thick oozy mud and deep cold puddles. What fun! I’m not cut out for this shit, I’m from the deepest depths of suburbia. Yes, I own wellies (gold Hunters, if you may) but I’ll be damned if I know when to use (wear) them. Is it really necessary to do a risk assessment of my getup every time I leave the house? Fortunately my Wednesday night PJ bottoms and fluffy jumper combo seems to be working so far. Hurrah for that!

 

*and possibly more but if that be the case then I haven’t noticed and my nearest and dearest have the good grace not to mention it.

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Pants to you

I have a confession to make.

My underwear isn’t matching.

Before you stop reading in disgust, I feel I should defend myself. I’m still wearing nursing bras – a temporary staple in my underwear drawer and I’m buggered if I’m going to fork out on matching knickers.

Before I was about 16 weeks pregnant with my first, there was not a day went by that my underwear didn’t match. It was an expensive habit but one I delighted in. Then came bigger bras to contain my mahusive pregnancy norks, then nursing bras and two years later, I did it all again.

All my pretty lacy matching sets are upstairs in the loft awaiting their return (at some point when the baby is no longer requiring daytime milk feeds). I am cool about having to wear flip-top nursing bras. Sometimes I do forget to fasten them, but mostly I know what I am doing.

However what I do need to sort out is my pant attire. I’m nearly 8 months postpartum. I have basically lost all my baby weight. I no longer need granny pants two sizes too big (as I was advised to buy pre-C section). But there is something so comforting about them. I can tuck my c section pouch in in absolute confidence, and because they are far too big, they make me feel skinnier than I really am.

But I do shudder a tiny bit whenever I catch sight of myself in my saggy nursing bra (also now too big but I’ll be damned if I’m buying any more) and baggy granny pants.

I really must do something about it…