Baby Body Wardrobe Trauma

Everyone knows being pregnant changes your body.  You can lose all the baby weight and your shit’s still probably not going to be in the same places.  At least not all of it.  It’s fun.  Ok, it’s annoying, because I kind of liked where things were before, but whatever.  Still, even knowing this, moms are definitely at risk for some wardrobe-related trauma.

I’m currently the same weight and dress size I was pre-pregnancy.  While I overhauled my wardrobe when I decided to stay home with my babies, I kept some of my favorite pieces of “professional” clothes, which have literally been hanging in my closet since sometime in January 2015, when my baby bump outgrew them.

Moving on. Now, my twins are almost three.  It’s not like I’m just now emerging from the months of maternity clothes post delivery.  I started wearing regular clothes almost immediately, because unlike a lot of women I know, I fucking hated maternity pants and missed my skinny jeans. Anyway. Yeah, I’m a SAHM/WAHM. I spend quite a bit of time in running tights or similar stretchy apparel. If you chase toddlers all day, you get it. BUT. I’ve had several occasions to get dressed up. My husband and I have had a couple date nights, holiday parties, a wedding, a funeral, etc. But none of those events required me to wear anything from my old work wardrobe.

Then, last Friday [ominous music playing], I had to attend an event at my husband’s very conservative employer. First of all, it’s hard for me to look conservative. I have weird colors in my hair and tattoos all over me. I wear unusual jewelry. Most of my clothes are black and tend to either be tight, or low cut, or have holes (ex: ripped jeans), and they almost all show at least one tattoo. This is all fine and good for the vast majority of my life. Case in point, it’s been three years since I’ve needed my old professional wear.

And guess what. It all looked like shit. Like, it looked so bad that it caught me off guard. I zipped up my old favorite black trousers and looked in the mirror and just…what the fucking fuck? If only it had just been the trousers. My pencil skirt, my wrap dress, my silk blouse? They all betrayed me. I was shocked that things that used to look great could still fit and look so goddamn awful. Just how? Blame the c-section tummy that still won’t go away? I don’t know, I’m sure it doesn’t help.

closetI ended up digging through the rest of that mess and improvising.  But I mean, seriously, HOW is there nothing in that closet to wear to a fucking work event?? I mixed some old professional pieces with new shit that fits right, and it worked, IMO anyway. (Pro tip: always own solid black pants that just kill it with heels.) Anyway, why not just go shopping like a normal person? Well, I didn’t know about the event until the night before, and I doubt I would have found much at our 24-hour Wal-Mart to improve my wardrobe situation. That said, I will for damn sure be picking up some new trousers in the very near future.

XX Nic

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