I am a practical woman. I don’t put on airs, I rarely even put on make-up. I don’t particularly like shopping. (I DO like buying, of course, but not the shopping part). As the weather improved this spring, I noticed that none of my clothes fit. This was a happy occasion. For the past seven years I had been pregnant, or just post-pregnancy. For the first time, I finally had a one-year old and no plans for procreation. My body is mine again. I could buy clothes.
After searching through my closet for any worthwhile, unstained, unstretched threads, I decided I needed most everything. It was ugly. I absolutely had to go shopping.
My husband does very well and we are more than comfortable, but let’s just remind ourselves that I am at heart a fairly practical woman. I don’t like shopping; I like buying. I went to the outlet mall. My oldest was at school. I bribed my three-year-old with a promised trip to feed the ducks next door. George was just happy to be along.
I decided that I don’t like looking bad. That seems obvious, doesn’t it? Even more than that, I wanted to take advantage of my empty closet to only buy clothes that I actually like. Clothes that I feel good in. So I did. I bought three skirts, a handful of cotton/spandex tops, one pair of standard khaki shorts, and a couple summer dresses. That’s right, just one pair of shorts for the whole summer.
I wore skirts and dresses all summer. I didn’t own shorts in my 20’s either, I worked and lived in Japan. I always wore skirts and dresses, except when I was actually running or in the gym. I rode my bike to work every day in a suit skirt.
In the mix was one particular white cotton barely knee-length, gathered, skirt that I really hesitated to buy. After all, what kind of crazy person has three small, often muddy children and runs around in a white cotton skirt?
I wore it all summer. I wore it every week. I wore it hiking around Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. I wore it camping at Fort Niagara. I wore it to my son’s t-ball games and sat in the grass. I wore it to the playground, to the grocery store, my friend’s house. I just wore it like I wore everything else in my closet.
On Friday, I wore it to playgroup.
On my way there, every man walking his dog, every jogger, everyone was smiling and waving at me. They were looking at me, but I am used to people being friendly when I go out with my children. Then I walked into playgroup holding my one-year-old in one hand and my helmet in the other.
“You rode your bike here in a skirt?”
I wasn’t riding for exercise. I was just riding to get there. Why change?
After searching through my closet for any worthwhile, unstained, unstretched threads, I decided I needed most everything. It was ugly. I absolutely had to go shopping.
My husband does very well and we are more than comfortable, but let’s just remind ourselves that I am at heart a fairly practical woman. I don’t like shopping; I like buying. I went to the outlet mall. My oldest was at school. I bribed my three-year-old with a promised trip to feed the ducks next door. George was just happy to be along.
I decided that I don’t like looking bad. That seems obvious, doesn’t it? Even more than that, I wanted to take advantage of my empty closet to only buy clothes that I actually like. Clothes that I feel good in. So I did. I bought three skirts, a handful of cotton/spandex tops, one pair of standard khaki shorts, and a couple summer dresses. That’s right, just one pair of shorts for the whole summer.
I wore skirts and dresses all summer. I didn’t own shorts in my 20’s either, I worked and lived in Japan. I always wore skirts and dresses, except when I was actually running or in the gym. I rode my bike to work every day in a suit skirt.
In the mix was one particular white cotton barely knee-length, gathered, skirt that I really hesitated to buy. After all, what kind of crazy person has three small, often muddy children and runs around in a white cotton skirt?
I wore it all summer. I wore it every week. I wore it hiking around Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. I wore it camping at Fort Niagara. I wore it to my son’s t-ball games and sat in the grass. I wore it to the playground, to the grocery store, my friend’s house. I just wore it like I wore everything else in my closet.
On Friday, I wore it to playgroup.
On my way there, every man walking his dog, every jogger, everyone was smiling and waving at me. They were looking at me, but I am used to people being friendly when I go out with my children. Then I walked into playgroup holding my one-year-old in one hand and my helmet in the other.
“You rode your bike here in a skirt?”
I wasn’t riding for exercise. I was just riding to get there. Why change?
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3 comments:
I think that's just freaking awesome. You feel great about yourself, and you're wearing it on your sleeve - or at least over your butt. You just keep on with your bad white skirt-wearing self.
mom101 - Thanks! I really appreciate your stopping by. This was the first picture I ever posted of myself, so I am feeling practically voyeuristic.
Yay! Give them a thrill riding your bike in your white skirt - probably cheered up their day.
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