The other day I received a catalog from a very recognizable brand of clothing/outdoor equipment/wealthy post-hippie adornments, and after flipping through with mild interest I came upon this atrocious display of, ahem, "fashion". Mind you, there is no child pictured here but you can bet your nuggets that this lady qualifies as a soccer mom.
Now, come on people. I realize that our foremothers have fabricated (yes, that was on purpose) a pretty awful legacy of Mom jeans and fanny packs that the rest of us now have to live down. Trust me, I remember those days. I have even worse pictures of my own mother circa 1986 with a burnt sienna perm and a McFly puffer vest, all the while sporting those stonewashed "waisties" that buttoned about an inch shy of her underwire. But I REALLY thought we had moved on. Seriously. Didn't we all have a big heart-to-heart somewhere around 1998 to declare once and for all that our asses looked much better when they are less than four feet long? Didn't we? *sigh*
Apparently all of that has been for naught as there are still people TODAY walking around in jeans that make them look like the stilt-walker in Cirque du Soleil (and Lord only knows how they manage to get the clogs to stay on). These women always have kids. And like all things comic, this stereotype EXISTS because it is TRUE. You laughed at those pants too!
This is the part, I believe, where I am obligated to pay homage to stuff like this simply because......hmm.....what was that lame excuse....something about "comfortable". Or "gigantic wedgie". Can't remember. The point is, if we were all meant to get through the days dressed solely for the comfort factor, I would have invested in cartoon scrubs and Crocs a while ago. But I didn't. And I assume you haven't either, my fellow mommies, unless you have chosen a profession that requires long shifts on your feet, taking care of sick people and weenies like me that pass out when a needle comes within two yards of my arm. (Although, doesn't that sound quite a bit like your job regardless....)
Now, please don't send me hate mail for mocking your beloved fat pants, should you own a pair. Or five. I have a good stash myself, thanks to the two toddlers that constitute my "job". My fat pants are my work gear, and believe me, I value the stretch factor sometimes. And I am certainly the last person to get dolled up for a playdate...HOWEVER...at least from my own perspective, I find that I feel a lot less shlumpy when I put a little effort in my appearance. Am I alone here? Trust me, I wouldn't dream of criticizing other people's style (to their faces), but from the looks of it, not all y'all are thrilled to be frumping around the park in big Tweetybird shirts with a ponytail so tight your eyes hurt.
Consider it tough love. I'll take one for the team and be the one to tell you the awful effect that has on you, and I'm not even talking about your hips. Seriously! Do you ever notice how differently you carry yourself on those days when you feel like a hottie? Personally I find it's that feeling alone that makes it worth just dipping into the budget, just this once, for a great pair of shoes or jeans that FIT, for crying out loud. Minus the stilts. It's hard enough for most of us to accept our new bodies after popping out a kid or two, and I think the best thing you can do is work with what you have. In my house, this means not feeling bad if my pant size is a higher number than I would like (it is), and learning to live with the fact that everything that used to be "perky" is not so much these days. Fine. I will move on. In fact, I spent the better part of the weekend saying goodbye to a lot of my tiny college clothes. I decided that this is just to make room for some new stuff that will be just as cute, but a few sizes bigger. It's an emotional separation, but I suggest you try it. I'm veering as far away from soccer mom as I can, and going for a new look. I will call it "Classy MILF", and as far as I'm concerned those clogs and Tweety shirts are nowhere to be found.
Now, come on people. I realize that our foremothers have fabricated (yes, that was on purpose) a pretty awful legacy of Mom jeans and fanny packs that the rest of us now have to live down. Trust me, I remember those days. I have even worse pictures of my own mother circa 1986 with a burnt sienna perm and a McFly puffer vest, all the while sporting those stonewashed "waisties" that buttoned about an inch shy of her underwire. But I REALLY thought we had moved on. Seriously. Didn't we all have a big heart-to-heart somewhere around 1998 to declare once and for all that our asses looked much better when they are less than four feet long? Didn't we? *sigh*
Apparently all of that has been for naught as there are still people TODAY walking around in jeans that make them look like the stilt-walker in Cirque du Soleil (and Lord only knows how they manage to get the clogs to stay on). These women always have kids. And like all things comic, this stereotype EXISTS because it is TRUE. You laughed at those pants too!
This is the part, I believe, where I am obligated to pay homage to stuff like this simply because......hmm.....what was that lame excuse....something about "comfortable". Or "gigantic wedgie". Can't remember. The point is, if we were all meant to get through the days dressed solely for the comfort factor, I would have invested in cartoon scrubs and Crocs a while ago. But I didn't. And I assume you haven't either, my fellow mommies, unless you have chosen a profession that requires long shifts on your feet, taking care of sick people and weenies like me that pass out when a needle comes within two yards of my arm. (Although, doesn't that sound quite a bit like your job regardless....)
Now, please don't send me hate mail for mocking your beloved fat pants, should you own a pair. Or five. I have a good stash myself, thanks to the two toddlers that constitute my "job". My fat pants are my work gear, and believe me, I value the stretch factor sometimes. And I am certainly the last person to get dolled up for a playdate...HOWEVER...at least from my own perspective, I find that I feel a lot less shlumpy when I put a little effort in my appearance. Am I alone here? Trust me, I wouldn't dream of criticizing other people's style (to their faces), but from the looks of it, not all y'all are thrilled to be frumping around the park in big Tweetybird shirts with a ponytail so tight your eyes hurt.
Consider it tough love. I'll take one for the team and be the one to tell you the awful effect that has on you, and I'm not even talking about your hips. Seriously! Do you ever notice how differently you carry yourself on those days when you feel like a hottie? Personally I find it's that feeling alone that makes it worth just dipping into the budget, just this once, for a great pair of shoes or jeans that FIT, for crying out loud. Minus the stilts. It's hard enough for most of us to accept our new bodies after popping out a kid or two, and I think the best thing you can do is work with what you have. In my house, this means not feeling bad if my pant size is a higher number than I would like (it is), and learning to live with the fact that everything that used to be "perky" is not so much these days. Fine. I will move on. In fact, I spent the better part of the weekend saying goodbye to a lot of my tiny college clothes. I decided that this is just to make room for some new stuff that will be just as cute, but a few sizes bigger. It's an emotional separation, but I suggest you try it. I'm veering as far away from soccer mom as I can, and going for a new look. I will call it "Classy MILF", and as far as I'm concerned those clogs and Tweety shirts are nowhere to be found.
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