So… I turned 29 over the weekend. I still can’t believe it. One year left of my twenties, that’s it! I spent a little time reflecting on where I’m at in life, and wondering if the 19 year old me would approve, but then I quit that when I remembered that the 19 year old me had a deep love for Kid Rock and the Dixie Chicks and wore an orange cowgirl hat anytime she went out to party, which was quite often.
Sure, I may not be as “successful”, career-wise, as the 19 year old me would have hoped, but I can honestly sit here and tell you all I am HAPPY, 110% happy, and that’s not something that even the 25 year old, career-driven me, who had quite the quarter-life crisis, could say.
But, let me not digress and turn this into a post all about how far I’ve come in 29 years or how I’m a little anxious about this next year coming and going, leaving me no choice but to turn 30. No, what I really want to talk about is how HORRIFIED and confused I am by clothes right now.
I can’t say that I’ve ever been super stylish, but I like to think I’ve been able to pull off some snazzy looks in my lifetime. The orange cowgirl hat, after all, was quite the eye-catcher and very “Coyote Ugly” back in 2000. Since becoming a stay at home mom, I’ve obviously had to ditch the pretty numbers from Banana Republic and Ann Taylor, which took me through my days full of meetings and happy hours, in favor of more toddler and budget friendly apparel. That usually means I spend my days in jeans, a fitted shirt, some flats (or sometimes my good ol’ Skechers slip ons), and a fun accessory, like a scarf. Yup. That’s pretty much my SAHM uniform.
Well, my incredibly sweet husband, who happens to be equal parts frugal and fashion clueless, bought me some clothes for my birthday. It was such a sweet gesture, and luckily he understood when I told him I’d have to take it all back and try to find some stuff that would be more “practical” for me to wear (read- fit me, not show my bra straps, not covered in sequins). I returned to New York & Company the next day, ready to hunt down some new, trendy clothes. I searched and searched, picked and pulled from the racks, turned my head to the side, then back, squinched my eyes and tried to figure out what I was looking at.
None of it made any sense to me.
So leggings are in now, yes? And I’m to pair them with a clingy, long, what appears to be night shirt? And then what? I put a belt over it? Is it just me, or is this an outfit I would have put together at the age of 2 after ransacking my mom and dad’s closet?
And you want me to wear brown boots with my black leggings? This is going against every rule of fashion I’ve committed to memory.
Tie dye and acid wash are back? And tapered leg pants with pleated fronts? I mean, isn’t that exactly what we have all been mocking for the past 15 years? Are you telling me I need a mullet now? Or maybe just a rat tail? Big bangs?
I gave up, bought a plain purple shirt and some clearance flip flops (which I will most likely return because, as my husband said, “ANOTHER pair of flip flops?”), and headed to Target later that day. Not that Target is the Mecca of fashion, but I’ve scored some cute stuff there recently, mainly just more plain fitted tees. I meandered into the trendy Juniors section, hoping to step a bit out of my comfort zone, when my sister and I ran across this number.
Is this just a sign that I’m getting old? Am I physically incapable of seeing clothes for what they are now and officially stuck in my comfortable, plain rut? Is this the first sign that I’m thisclose to giving up and turning into the cat shirt lady??
Kendall is nearly 22 months old and I’m 29 years old and 2 days.