Home on the Range

Hello, loyal readers (yes, both of you)! Why have I been absent from the blogosphere, you ask? I have been on a lovely trip to Wyoming and replaced my virtual life with a real one. Okay, okay, I didn't have internet access. Anyway...

What is it about the rural Western United States that makes people wear turquoise jewelry and large belt buckles? Jackson, Wyoming, is a fashion center all its own. The town, small as it is, seems to specialize in yuppies who are pretending to be outdoorsy.

You forgot your bear spray? Sure. While you're picking some up, why don't you check out the $500 stingray-skin cowboy boots we have for sale downstairs?

Last time I checked, stingrays were not native to Wyoming. I was also highly amused by the "authentic" wooden Christmas ornaments (choose from moose or bison) made in India.

Also fascinating was the $2,500 leather coat that had a rhinestone Gothic cross plastered across the back. You know, perfect for those chilly mornings chasing heathen pronghorns across the valley.

Tiny Daughter manged to lose one of her shoes on the airplane, and since there was no Target to be found, the lucky little lady is now the proud owner of $42 pink mary janes. I was twelve before I owned a pair of shoes that expensive. I have instructed her feet to stop growing for the next 18 months.

So...yeah. Jackson is not the place for inexpensive souvenirs. It is, however, the place for:

A good time was had by all, just not at the retail stores.

Packing it In

I know I'm not the only seriously annoyed that airlines are charging us for a checked bag. It's not easy to get by with a carry-on if you're going to be away for more than a weekend, particularly if you have a special event to plan for (we all know a wedding requires an entire outfit you will only wear once that week: bridesmaid dress, uncomfortable bra, Spanx, and stupid shoes). For every trip, I have just decided to plan on my ticket costing an extra $50, since I'll have to pay for baggage both ways. Now it doesn't even matter how long I will be away; I will always need to check a bag. Why, you ask?

Because I'm taking my baby.

You think women are high maintenance? We've got nothing on babies. One outfit change for us, two for the baby. Minimum. Diapers, wipes, food, toyspacifiersshoesmedicineblankiesippycupsbottlesbibs. The list goes on. Literally. My list, between me and the baby, is two pages long. Despite the fact that my little one is about 1/5 my size, she has now taken over 60% of my suitcase. The only thing that's mine in my carry-on is my laptop. I'm trying to decide if I REALLY need a change of socks for each day? I mean, my feet will be in shoes, right? Right???

Maybe next time I should just FedEx my clothes.

Baby-Proof Jewelry

Marilyn Monroe crooned that diamonds are a girl's best friend, but I think it's important that we don't have an exclusive relationship. Who doesn't love a great statement necklace or the kind of earrings that make your neck look long and lean? I have an impressive amount of jewelry, a lot of which I've made myself. The problem is that most of it was made or purchased BEFORE baby, or, as I like to call them, the years BB.

In the years BB, jewelry was purchased on a whim. Maybe it reminded me of something my grandmother wore. Maybe it went with the outfit I was wearing that day. I tend to gravitate towards unique, artisan-style stuff that you are not going to see on everyone. Tiny Daughter, on the other hand, tends to gravitate towards ANYTHING. Dangly earring? I'm going to pull it out of your ear now! Delicate chain? Hey, you can repair that, right? Beaded necklace? Those things look good enough to eat. Since it's pretty much impossible to wear jewelry that the baby won't be interested in, mommies need to find accessories that won't break. I've found a few items that seem to withstand the AB (After Baby) era.

Metal link necklace
Purchased a couple of years ago in an Ohio boutique, this $20 necklace is surprisingly lightweight yet sturdy. These mega-chunky links are mesh, giving me the look of serious hardware without the neck ache. It's long enough I often double it up and wear it as a choker, too.

Sorry about the pic. Someday I'll learn how to use my camera and finally manage to take a picture indoors without a flash. For now, just ignore the blinding light.






Flower post earrings from Express



This kinda retro-y pair is cute but not terribly tempting for kids to pull. The post backing means it's securely stuck to my ear.

Huh. Never got a close-up side view of my ear before. Glad to know there's no hair.





Antique fork bracelet
Yes, you read that right. It's a fork. A guy at a craft fair in Florida last spring explained how he buys antique silverware at estate sales and melts the tines, creating the swirls. This one happened to have a cool cut-out pattern on the end, as well. There is a spring hinge on the back, so I don't have to amputate my wrist when I take the bracelet off. There's nothing to pull on, no beads that can fly off, and no elastic to snap. Plus, it's quite the conversation-starter, don't you think?


Someday, Tiny Daughter will get to inherit my jewelry. I really, really hope by that time she will have lost interest in eating it.

Sleep Chic

What do you wear to bed? Are you a negligee kind of woman? Perhaps a tap-pants-and-cami chick? A bustier-with-lacy-thong lady?

Or a plaid-pajama-pants-and-old-college-tee mommy?

I mean, I probably went topless most of the time for my daughter's first three months of life. If I did have a shirt on, only one button was fastened. My boobs were in such demand that it made the most sense to have easy access. Sorry, UPS dude. Didn't mean to scare ya. If the hubby was turned on, he had sense enough not to show it.

Now I can be as demure as I like. Or not. But since the Tiny Daughter is my alarm clock every morning, I don't get to go straight from the bed into the shower. I'm making breakfast, changing diapers, bathing (her, that is) and playing. On a good day, there may be exercise. I'm lucky if I get to clean up within the first ninety minutes that I'm awake. Therefore, flimsy, lacy items are impractical, as they cannot hold their own against the onslaught of banana, bathwater and baby kisses. A bit of the problem is also modesty. Yes, Tiny Daughter is too little to question why Mommy's tush is hanging out of her jammie shorts, but the day would come eventually, and it's a conversation I don't want to have.

What do I wear to bed?

• a set of hospital scrubs I bought when I was 20

• striped pajama pants and one of my workout tees

• "I Love Lucy"-esque black and white polka-dotted cropped pants and matching button down top, purchased for easy nighttime nursing access

• saggy yoga pants and maternity tank top

I think I need a sleepwear revolution. The problem is finding cute, comfy pjs that combine style and a certain degree of modesty. Let's hit the internet! I'm open to suggestions!

Okay, I just checked out Victoria's Secret. Why do all the models look like they are wearing bras under their pjs?

Location-Specific

I went to St. Augustine today, wandered around the Spanish fort, and checked out the Old Town. They had all of the typical kitchy stores, and I really, really loved a tie-dyed, embroidered dress with one of those puckery waists that will fit everyone. It was lightweight and brightly colored, and not too expensive. I tried it on, looked in the mirror...and said no. Why, you ask, would I turn my nose up at an adorable dress?

It was most definitely a location-specific item.

Have you ever gone on vacation, made some clothing or accessory purchases and returned home only to realize you look like a reject from Survivor? Yeah. That's what this dress was. Breezy beachwear doesn't work once you leave the beach. I live in the swamp, and long, turquoise, hippie-style dresses scream,"I hate it here! I wish we lived by a beach like the smart Floridians!" And hey, no one likes bitter people.

Please understand that location-specific items do include, but are not limited to, beachwear. here are some other fine examples of stuff we should leave behind once we leave its origin:

Nothing screams, "Whoo HOOO! Spring break in Cancún!" like a pareo. As cute as it looked at the beachside market, it is not professional, your kids will play hide-and-seek under it, and you will never figure out how to tie it in all those cool ways they show you on the instruction paper.

Oh wait, if the instruction sheet is inadequate, go ahead and drop $15 on a pareo-tying DVD to help you out!

Moving on...how about that fabulous trip to Guadalupe? Or, um, Arizona? Unless you are attending a Phish concert or seek a really un-PC Halloween costume, just say no to the stripey poncho. You can still slam tequila shots, I promise.

Don't forget the family vacays in the Alaskan wilderness...only the dogs to keep you warm, huddled together watching iceberg chunks break off glaciers and head straight towards your cruise ship...dum dum DUMMMM! Those fur mukluks might be warm, but you live in North Carolina. And your dogs will get really, really excited about the rabbit fur. Eww.

These boots are what UGGs want to be when they grow up.

Guten Tag! Did you enjoy your tour of Germany? Ja? Pick up all the fine wooden toys and cuckoo clocks you want, but step AWAY from the lederhosen. Your children do not want them. Your infant son will thank you many times over for not subjecting him to cutesy pictures involving lederhosen and Alpine hats. Once you leave the Alps and are no longer likely to be gored by runaway cows, your kids look pretty silly in leather shorts.

I'm sure my readers can come up with their own location-specific items. Anyone still have a puka-shell necklace rattling around in their jewelry box, despite traveling to Hawaii over eight years ago? Yeah. I thought so.

Every Day is Dessert

You know that ubiquitous Facebook quote: "Life is short. Eat dessert first"? That's how I feel about clothes. Why wait for a special occasion to wear your favorite outfit? Do it now!

If I'm going to wait until Hubby and I get a date night, I'll never get dressed up. Feeling pretty and put-together can take the edge off a day that has had me cleaning up baby puke, doing three loads of laundry, trying to teach my daughter how to use crayons, and then dealing with the diaper damage from aforementioned crayon lesson.

Friday night we went to a bar. By "we," I mean Hubby, Tiny Daughter, and me (yes, I take my baby to bars, only in the early evening, only if there is no smoke, and only if she is well-behaved. Parenting WIN!). I wore a Desigual tapestry skirt with bejeweled buttons. I dressed it down with a plain t-shirt and flat sandals, but I still looked a bit out of place among the flip-flops and tank tops. I don't care what other people think, because some days are simply sequin days.

It is impossible to be crabby in this skirt. Hello, lovely buttons!

The best part about wearing fancy stuff to go out with friends is that I get to pass the baby around, thus decreasing the likelihood that I'M the one she slimes. Fortunately, my friends have a pretty high goo tolerance.

Weird Shoes

I admit, I'm kinda known for my shoes. Turquoise stacked-heel sandals? Check. Pointy-toed red-lace-up calf-length boots? Uh huh. Gray oxford-style booties in a leather so soft you could spread it on bread? Yup. Shoes can take an outfit from ordinary to extraordinary and can make you feel like you have ten times more outfits than you actually do.

Another bonus? Spray a little waterproofing stuff on them and they are impervious to drool, spit-up, Cheerio mush, and most forms of precipitation. One pair of shoes I own even claims to be Satan-resistant:

Shoes don't care if you've gained or lost weight. With proper care they can last a decade or longer. They can be repaired--a good cobbler can resole, restitch and reglue worn shoes that you can't bear to give up. I'm willing to invest more money in shoes than in almost any other piece of clothing, because I know that the good ones will be sticking around a long time.

It's about creating a relationship. If the shoes are comfortable and I can see myself wearing them forever, I'll put forth the effort to keep them in good shape. Kind of like my relationship with my husband, except that with shoes, monogamy is not required. Thank God.

What's the worst question you can ask a new mother?

"When are you due?"

Oh, the horror of having someone think you are pregnant when you have ALREADY HAD THE BABY! [dum dum dummmmmm]

I was about a month postpartum when I started looking for some new clothes. Still unable to fit into my prepregnancy stuff, I was happy to go shopping for tops and dresses that could accommodate my new boobs. Little did I know that the path to cuteness was paved with danger.

Enemy number one: The Empire Waist

Sandals Cay Silk Empire Waist Shirt
I had several male friends express their dismay when these came back into fashion. "How am I supposed to know who is pregnant and who isn't? I just totally insulted my coworker and I didn't mean to!" one poor fellow exclaimed. Why do we continue to buy these tops when we know darn well that floaty fabric coming down from the bustline hints at a baby bump?

They make our boobs look great. For that, we will forgive almost anything. But maybe we shouldn't.


Enemy Number Two: Trapeze Dresses
Maggy London Jersey Trapeze Dress
Oh, remember back in the early 90's when we all wore these and thought we looked adorable? I was about 12 or so and had one in dark green. Of course, being a scrawny kid with braces probably put the pregnancy questions to rest.

Also, if you wear one of these and twirl around really fast, everyone gets to see your underwear. Not that I ever did that.


Enemy Number Three: Tunics
Boden Fabulous Tunic
Sigh. This is really, really cute. I love the print and how it makes me think of a go-go dancer or a character from Austin Powers. I'd be tempted to wear this over gray leggings and cute loafers, but let's analyze: no defined waist, little to no shaping at the sides, unlikely to work well with a belt...yeah. I'd look pregnant.


Enemy Number Four: Blouson Dresses

Nordstrom Suzi Chin dress
In all fairness, I think this dress is okay. The problem is the blouson part itself. This extra bit of fabric that is folded over does its job; it hides your tummy. The problem is that it sort of rounds over your tummy, creating a nice little pouch perfect for a BABY to live in, kangaroo-style.

Enemy Number Five: Drop Waists
J. Crew Drop-Waist Dress
I have a bit of a drop waist phobia. I was turning twelve when my fashion-challenged grandmother gave me a pale blue floral-print drop-waisted dress for my birthday. It even had a big pink satin sash and a Peter Pan collar. Dude, you show up to sixth grade in a dress like that and you're gonna get your ass kicked. Drop waists manage to hide every possible curve on your body. Tush? Nah. Hips? Fuggeddaboudit. If the dress pictured here didn't have the ruffles, even your breasts would be nonexistent. Drop-waisted dresses can rot in hell, and take their Peter Pan collars with them. I'm sorry, Grandma, but the dress was really bad. I think that was the same year you gave me the music stand, too. Don't worry, I still love you.

Just Say No

It's not easy keeping up with the latest trends, people. Skinny jeans. Colorblocking. Textured knits. Plus, we all know it's risky to obey the Fashion Gods willy-nilly. Anyone remember Hypercolor? Jams? Ed Hardy?

What amazes me are the clothes and accessory advertisements where not even the model looks good. If someone who was hired specifically to look awesome cannot manage it, what chance do the rest of us have? Designers, I urge you: if a model cannot wear it, DO NOT manufacture more!

Here is a look at some items that should never be on anyone's body under any circumstances:

1969 high-rise pleat shorts
A waist, you ask? We don't need no stinkin' waist!

Sugar & Spice Jumpsuit
You are getting sle-e-epy...my zigzags are hy-y-ypnotizing you...
What are the odds that all of your proportions match the jumpsuit's proportions?

Liz Claiborne Flutter Sleeve Top

I suppose the upside would be this shirt's ability to mask baby vomit.

Ed Hardy Rose Wrapped Heart Rhinestone Zippered Leggings
If you like them that much, just get a REAL TATTOO already! It would be classier!


Kae Feather Skirt
Let's breed a leopard and an ostrich and see what we get! Just a fluffy butt, you say? Eh. All right.


Did anyone catch what all of these items have in common? They are all on sale. The stores desperately hope that a lower price will entice us to commit fashion suicide. "Yeah, I know the drop-crotch zebra-print harem pants are kinda weird, but they were ON SALE!"

Are we clear? Just say no to jumpsuits, bad denim, horrific prints and genetically engineered animals. This is not an exhaustive list, of course, so feel free to discuss your favorite form of ugly.

We Love Short Shorts (Or Not)!

I live in Daisy Duke country, y'all. I'm referring to the shorts, not the TV character. A college town in Florida means lots and lots of really tiny shorts. There have been times when I was unsure whether a young lady was actually wearing shorts or if they were boy-cut bikini bottoms. How does one know if one's shorts are too tiny?

If your underwear sticks out the bottom

If your pockets are longer than your shorts

If your t-shirt covers your shorts so it looks like you aren't wearing any

If the crease where your thigh meets your butt can be seen as you walk

If you need a bikini wax in order to wear your shorts

I really, really hate wearing shorts. When I moved here two years ago I didn't own any. It took less than two weeks of 85-degree weather (in October!) to realize that I could not live in this climate without wearing shorts occasionally. Alas, shorts are a logistical nightmare. I'm a fair-skinned, dark-haired woman, so if I miss a day shaving I look like Velcro. At 5'3", "fashion rules" dictate that I should wear short shorts to make my legs look longer. I guess the ladies at Vogue have nannies to sit cross-legged on the floor to read endless rounds of The Very Hungry Caterpillar and to bend over every time a kiddo wants to be scooped up.

Even though I am anti-shorts, I am also anti-heat-exhaustion. Therefore, I have had to squat down in dressing rooms to assess the adequacy of inseams, buy the least-objectionable shorts I can find, and then shave constantly to the point that my razor burn looks like poison ivy. Bermudas, you suggest? A pair of Bermuda shorts is the ONLY clothing item in my eight-year marriage that my husband has particularly asked me not to wear. I love me some man-repelling fashion, but if my man thinks I look better during childbirth than I do wearing Bermudas, I should probably pay attention.

Just as women are always looking for the perfect bra or little black dress, I am constantly on the hunt for the perfect shorts. In my dreams, they make my legs look tan, long, and lean, they don't ride up, and they do not provide free adult entertainment when I bend over. I have yet to find this miracle.

I'm pinning my hopes on this cute pair I bought at the Gap this weekend:

Trimmed trouser shorts Regular Price $49.95

Interestingly enough, the faux-leather trim on the pair I bought is actually black, not brown like the picture.

I'll let everyone know when I've made my ruling.

Welcome!

Before we begin, let's get one thing straight. This is not a complain-about-my-body blog. There will be no rants about tummies, boobs, hips, or weight. Frankly, all that nonsense has been done to death and only succeeds in making women feel bad about themselves.

This is a work-with-what-you've-got-as-long-as-you-WORK-IT-GIRL! blog. I want to feel good about myself, and cute clothes help me achieve that. I do not want to be one of those women who completely leaves herself behind when she has children. Being a mother is only part of my identity, and while my daughter may not care what I'm wearing, I care. And that's enough.

Moving on...

Mommyhood makes me look for different attributes in clothing now. I sadly avoid loose knits and cool laser cuts that are easily destroyed by munchkin fingers. Low rise jeans will be left to the college kids across town. I hate it when my undies show. In fact, I'm reluctant to wear anything requiring special undergarments because special undergarments are nearly always uncomfortable. Dry-clean-only clothes are to be avoided except on special occasions. Aside from the toxic chemicals used in the dry cleaning process, dry cleaning is certainly more expensive than simply throwing something in my washing machine. Since Tiny Daughter has all sorts of goo oozing from various orifices at any given time, I tend to wash my clothes a lot. A lot.



I was thrilled to find this cute summer dress at Express. I liked it so much I bought it in red and black. It's a cotton/modal blend with an elastic (!) waist, so it's super comfy and can be washed in the machine and even shoved in the dryer. The double layer skirt means I don't have to think about what kind of underwear I'm wearing, and the split sleeves do a pretty decent job of hiding bra straps. I slap on a belt to cover the elastic and match my mood. I originally bought a black leather ruffly belt to wear with the dress but found some different belts that were more fun.


Here's the dress itself.









Here it is with the gold sparkly stretchy belt I bought for $6 at the Gap.


I added gold wedges I've owned for ages. Normally I avoid heels, but these are stable enough that I don't feel as if I'm going to topple over.











Finally, here is the dress with one of my all-time favorite purchases, a Desigual belt I bought in Zurich.












Plus, a close-up of the belt, which has a really unique design:






This dress should also work in winter with some tights and killer boots, no? Maybe a black leather jacket thrown on top...