“You look fine,” my friend Vicki said, in response to my question. “You look like…well, like a mom.”
What?! Yeah, so I AM a mom, but that was beside the point. I didn’t necessarily want to look like one. Heck, when I was in my twenties I was known for my funky, artsy style. I mean, I used to work in advertising and everything!
I walked over to the mirror and stared at my sit-at-the-waist jeans complete with belt, and button-front oxford, neatly tucked in. I guess they did kind of scream “Hello, 80’s!” With a shock I realized I was vintage, and not in a good way. I decided right then, I needed to do some serious style revamping.
With my teenage daughter’s fashion advice ringing in my ears, I headed to the mall, a woman on a mission. In the jeans section, I chose several low-rise styles and locked myself in a dressing room. Squeezing into the first pair, I rechecked the tag. Strange. They were supposed to be my size. Well, I had to admit it was kind of liberating to have my stomach pouf sitting on top of the waistband for a change. But the rest of me was so uncomfortably packed in, I quickly took them off.
Moving on, I pulled up the next pair. Or rather, I tried to pull them up. They were so low my underwear hung out a good four inches above the waistline. Not quite the look I was going for.
The third pair actually fit, but sported so many holes and tears in strategic places they didn’t really fit the over-forty-yet-sophisticated effect I was trying to create. I finally discovered some hole-free styles which sat “slightly below the waist,” then headed to the Intimates Department to find low-rise undergarments to wear with my new low-rise jeans.
I found myself surrounded by thongs. I held one up for closer inspection.
Nope.
I know there are women my age who actually like these, but I totally don’t get it. How could they possibly be comfortable? So after selecting some regular hip-height styles, I moved onto tops.
According to my daughter’s recommendation, I wanted tops that didn’t need to be tucked in. When I was younger, tucking in was good. Now apparently, it’s bad. I grabbed a bunch of different styles and once again closeted myself in a dressing room.
Okay, here’s a question: why does everything need to be so form fitting?!
I peered over my shoulder where unflatteringly magnified were some “lovely lady lumps” of which, up until then, I’d been blissfully unaware. Several tops sported wide, low-cut necklines which, my daughter told me, I was supposed to layer over camis. After trying everything on, I was sweating and feeling suffocated by all of this “layering.” But I plunged gamely on, finally selecting some not-too-low-cut, not-too-form-fitting shirts. I made my purchases and headed home.
Hmph! Let’s see who ‘looks like a Mom’ now!
A few weeks later, my daughter and I were out shopping when I spotted a woman about my age. She was wearing a pair of the torn-and-shredded variety jeans with a low-cut top (no cami!). She cruised the aisles comfortably untucked, with a smidgen of tummy peeking out.
“What do you think about that?” I asked pointing in the woman’s direction. “Should I be dressing more like that?”
My daughter’s eyes grew wide, “No way! She’s a Wannabe!”
“What’s a Wannabe?”
“You know, a mom who wishes she was still a teenager.”
Ugh! Seriously? I wouldn’t go that far! I felt relieved; at least I wasn’t a Wannabe.
My daughter paused and looked me over in my slightly-below-the-waist jeans and untucked but-not-too-form-fitting shirt, and she smiled. “I like how you’re dressed, mom. You look fine.”
Cool. I guess I look fine. And that’s fine with me.
Image by: Playingwithbrushes
