Yesterday, Olive and I took our long trek across town for my therapy appointment, her strapped to my back in the Ergo, me pounding the pavement in unfortunate “mom clothes” — jeans, decade-old sneakers, hoodie. We walk from the Mission to the Marina once a week, a 3-mile uphill hike that takes us over an hour and gives me sore quads for a few days after. The saving grace is usually a stop at Rare Device, to see our friends that run that cute boutique and look at the newest wares.
This particular Tuesday we had it even better — my friend Suzanne did most of the walk with us, and we even stopped for French pastries along the way! It’s nice that it was so enjoyable this time, as it may be our last trek. Carrying 22 lb Olive over SF hills and then taking the grungy bus back with a friendly baby and hella tweakers is not really a sustainable plan. Also, Olive is on the go now, and tears up the therapy room as I try to have deep conversation about my emotions. So, we are taking a break soon. And even though I don’t pay the full going rate for therapy, I am looking forward to the slight bump in our budget very much. I plan to spend it on…
Clothes. A friend recently asked me, out of honest curiousity, “Do you EVER wear pants?” To which I replied, “Not if I can help it.” My love affair with dresses is long-standing, to the point where I even wear them to dance class over my workout pants — I prefer a little bustle when I shake it. Alas, having a baby and being on such a tight budget, the only clothes I have bought this year have been nursing tanks. I have one pair of shoes that fit, flats bought for me by a dear friend.
Still, I make glamour out of rags. I put on dingy old dresses when taking Olive to the playground — frocks that once were special for anniversaries but now are so stained that I don’t mind just plopping down in the grass with her, as she crawls around my lap, smudging my lipstick all over the print. A mom at the park the other day said, “She must be your first baby, if you have time to put on a pretty dress…” But it took about 5 seconds to pull on the dress, slip into my one and only flats and run out the door. I just replied, “I don’t know, I think I’ll always find the time for glamour…”
As my year of nursing Olive around the clock comes to a close, I am PINING for an infusion into my wardrobe, mostly fabulously impractical pieces like scalloped shoes that look more like cake than footwear:
I want big woolen coats in shocking colors, with boxy shapes that a baby carrier would never wrap around. I desire huge sparkly skirts that poof out on the playground, which I will wear with my grandmother’s fur coat and a headdress, looking dangerously like a Grey Gardens gal.
I may never make friends with the other moms dressed in such array, but I want clothes as art and not as function, I want style in every minute, and I want necklines that don’t provide easy access to a nursing breast. Boatnecks galore, here I come!
My first stop is going to be Nooworks, where they sell locally designed dresses in fun prints and styles. Then from there I’ll hit up some thrift stores, as my clothing budget will be but a pittance. SF thrifting is no hardship, though — it will be a wildly fun time… if I can ever make space for it in my schedule! Anyone want to join me on a thrifting rampage? We can take Olive and dress her up in fedoras and vintage aprons, teaching her early that wearing clothes for comfort is for the birds — eccentricity + simplicity all the way!