sartorial inspirations

Last summer I was tremendously pregnant. Thankfully, I am not this summer but I also don’t have a clue what I should wear. It’s all terribly vain and I have this gorgeous baby that I love and how could I possibly be concerned with fashion but c’mon (for a primer on how that should sound in your head, listen to Pregnant Women are Smug).

Polka Dots! from Life Appreciation Blog.

Polka Dots! from Life Appreciation Blog.

I need to wear clothes and I want to look cute. In addition to completely and totally changing your world view, children change your body. I now have muscles and not so muscly bits, and it’s probably shitty of me to complain about losing weight and not knowing what to wear, but it’s true.

I apparently also lost my fashion sense when I gave birth – I haven’t a clue what to do with myself so I’ve started a Pinterest board. Like all good people of the internet.

A lot of my “aaahhhh! clothes!” freaking is coming from impending situations where I will have to hang out with people older than 7. Those who don’t wear tutus as regular street wear.

I’ve told Mr I would definitely do What Not to Wear, despite the obvious love they have for lady blazers and pastels, if only out of desperation for someone to assure me that I can still look cool even though I’m in my 30s, married and have three kids.

This happened after I had D five years ago, which is how I discovered Lady Smaggle, whom I adore but I could wear a leather maxi for about three seconds. Her style is impeccable and I adore her but I need access for feeding B. I own exactly one white shirt that I liberally spray with stain remover whether there is a stain or not, just because you never know, it’s white and I have kids.

Pretty much everything I own is black, if only because it is forgiving of most stains and I’ve fallen for the lie that well kept black yoga pants are acceptable pants to wear about – though I’ve only worn them out when I’m on my way to the gym.

This is life one yearish older. You’re obsessed that you probably can’t look cool anymore – mostly because you don’t know what that means.


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