I’ve always had a little trouble shopping for clothes. I’m just not very good at it. Many times I didn’t even try something on before I bought it. That’s because of the knowledge that nothing I wear is going to make my body look any better, so why bother putting myself through all that?
It would be best if I didn’t have any mirrors in my house at all, because then I would be blissfully unaware of how awful certain clothes look on me.
When I’m home by myself I tend to wear loose T-shirts and sweatshirts and pants with an elastic waistband. Pastel colors are my favorite although I’ve been told that pastels make me look washed out. My mirror tells me I look like a giant wad of cotton candy on two sticks. Darn mirror!
When I’m out, I try to wear something that doesn’t say, “Look! I’m still wearing my pajamas!” But it doesn’t say, “Look! I’m a super model!” either. More likely my outdoor clothes say, “Look! Wal-mart had a sale!”
Most women base their wardrobe selections for the day on different factors such as: the weather, the season, the tasks for the day, and whether or not they are PMSing. Other factors that I include are whether or not I have a child home sick and the likelihood of getting puked on. If I’ve already applied makeup, I’ll put on a button up shirt so as to avoid smearing my mascara.
If all my white socks are in the wash, I can’t wear my sneakers today or, if I decide to flout convention and wear them anyway, I have to wear extra long pants. A parent/teacher conference requires careful attention to detail; nothing that would suggest that the teacher needs to call in a social worker.
Males are usually not so fastidious with their apparel. Or, in my boy’s case, they are selectively fastidious. They won’t wear the same pair of jeans twice, but if there isn’t a clean pair of underwear in their drawer, they’ll turn their old pair inside out and wear them again.
Socks? Who needs socks? If I harass them into wearing a pair for picture day, chances are, they won’t match.
My daughter, however, is very concerned about her appearance, but she’s been known to walk out the door before a brush is applied to her tangled nap of hair. She apparently thinks that no one would notice if it looked as though she was wearing a Shitzu on her head.
So although my own wardrobe choices would be chained to a cinder block and thrown into the sea by raging fashionistas, as a mother, I try very hard to make sure that my children are not so aesthetically challenged.
They may fight me on it, but one day when they remember to wear a suit to an interview, shoes instead of sneakers to the prom, and costumes only on Halloween, they will thank me.
Either that, or when they see me wearing my favorite Christmas sweatshirt in March with a pair of black pants, white socks and Crocs, they’ll simply roll their eyes and I’ll know I’ve made a difference.