Hip, Hot, and Age-Appropriate

There was a moment when things changed, but you didn’t notice until well after.

You live in a city, with friends, and maybe a boyfriend. You even get married while still in the city, renting an apartment and having brunch and sleeping late. You look great, wear heels, short shorts, nice clothes. You shop with friends, regularly, for fun. You spend time before a night out thinking on which earrings are best with the dress, and someone might come over to straighten your hair.

Maybe you move for your graduate school, or his work, to a slightly smaller city, or big town. It’s a loss, and it hurts, but not for long. You adjust. Drive a bit more. No one delivers Chinese food after 10pm, but you make do. Work is busy, encompassing, and so are friends and going out. Your husband might help straighten your hair, or comment on your earrings, if you insist.

Then you have a child. You do not sleep late anymore. You do not care where you live, because you spend lots of time in your living room or kitchen. Maternity clothes are really comfortable, and easy, and you wonder why elastic waistbands aren’t standard. Friends come to you, or you have to leave early. The proportion of friends with no kids to friends with kids starts to shift, slightly. You still have brunch, you still go out, but now you have the cost of a sitter tainting the air around your good time. You wonder what people with no kids do in their free time.

You shop for clothes once you’ve dropped that baby bump. You nurse in the Ladies Lounge on the third floor of Nordstrom’s. You use the handicapped dressing room so your stroller fits in. You buy a pair of Dansko clogs, because fashion at the playground is different than fashion at the office. Good boots seem silly, overdressed. Even your style at the office has lost its zing, because you have to pump while there, which calls for particular shirts.

Then you move to the suburbs, for his job. You decide to stay home full-time, before the next baby arrives, and it turns out yoga pants are good for a lot more than just yoga. They match everything, can be worn night and day, take stains well, and are just real comfortable. You wear them a lot. Along with sneakers. And clogs. Which is fine, but you start to feel…blah. Zing-less. Spark-free. Mommied. Middle-aged. No late night parties or dance clubs for you.

Things have changed, which you knew, but YOU have changed, which perhaps you hadn’t noticed. You aren’t 20. Or 30. You are in your mid-ish, late-ish 30s. You have gray hairs. Your body has the marks of carrying children. You are not a homeschooling, yogurt-making mommy, nor are you a high-powered office woman. You don’t wear miniskirts, but nor do you wear Land’s End jeans. You know this is probably about more than your clothes, but wonder if that might be a place to start. Can the clothes make the woman? Can the woman work the clothes, even if she’s spooning out oatmeal and helping with homework? Can you become the hip, hot, and age-appropriate person you once were?

And will it make a difference?

We'll see...