I loved this article. I thought it was inspiring for teenagers, but it also reminded me of my own dressing room discoveries. As Li’l Bean’s arrival approaches, I find myself facing the dreaded moment when I pack away my cute maternity apparel and open the closet to … what? Things that will fit me in a few months but for the moment mock the fact that unlike other friends and relations, I do not immediately bounce back into pre-baby form.
This article isn’t about weight, however. It’s about clothes. My daughters are going to be facing racks of stuff that will make them look like tramps if they choose, and I’m facing racks of stuff that make me (personally) look frumpy if I choose.
Three times in the past I’ve rushed out to Wal-Mart and found shirts on sale that, by the end of six or seven months of nursing, toddlers’ hands reaching for the hem, and etc., are so stretched out and useless that they are either tossed or relegated to the scrap bag. Three times I’ve looked at myself in the mirror shortly after births and congratulated myself at being able to wear normal clothes, only to berate myself later for jumping at sales in order to look….frumpy. Nota bene: This is not to say that all women look frumpy in Wal-Mart shirts within a year of buying them, only that I do. And three times now I’ve faced the end of a pregnancy with nothing to wear because I chose the wrong clothes eighteen months or so before.
Regular old T-shirts don’t do it for me anymore, I find. I want blouses. I want pretty nursing tops that don’t necessarily scream “nursing”. I do not usually follow the current trends, but surf somewhere along the verge of them. I’ve spent some time thinking about the kinds of things I like to wear, and have cut out pictures from magazines to stash away in my Button Book (aka the “Control Journal” I made thanks to FlyLady–it’s a journal with buttons sewn to the cover, hence, Button Book). I know the colors I can wear. I know the places I’d like to shop. This time I want to hit the ground running with a graceful transition from post-baby to pre-baby that doesn’t waste my clothing allowance and helps make me feel pretty and put-together.
Most of all, I want to be able to show my daughters what the girl in the article learned: you are beautiful as God made you, and that wearing “just the right thing” means more than choosing a lot of bad things just because the mainstream says it looks good (that’s for them), or because it’s on mega clearance right now and you are desperate (that’s me).