True Life: I’ve never been a fashion blogger.
I don’t think I’m the girl who’s always known for her high-style outfits. I don’t spend big money on trendy things, nor do I have a swipe up. I’m not an influencer. I labor under no delusion that I’m the next big thing with shiny veneers and smooth orangey legs who slings aloof beauty looks.
But I still think I have something to offer.
I told Dale, I think I could maybe touch on an area that other women (influencers) either can’t or don’t. I’m 36. I’m a mother. I work in corporate America. My body is shaped differently that a twenty-four year old’s is, and my needs are likely different as well (they probably don’t need to whip out a tit at the drop of a hat … or maybe they do, idk, no judgment from me). The issue with professional influencers is that they dress for their own lives, not necessarily the lives of their audience, and for a lot of us, a closet full of distressed denim and ruffled tanks isn’t as practical as we need it to be.
I remember vividly when an influencer I followed did a workwear post, and I eagerly visited her site and found leather culottes. Leather culottes. If you work within the bounds of The Devil Wears Prada, that would be reasonable, but do you know what would happen if I showed up to Walmart wearing leather shorts? Good gravy, the looks. THE HORROR.
(I’m going to start using GIFs in blog posts again bc that was fun in 2012)
I’ve also had a struggle since becoming pregnant (and then having Scout) with what to wear. My body is different, even if it’s starting to (sort of) resemble what it looked like prior to baby. I’m not all the way back in pre-baby clothes, but I’m not in maternity clothes anymore, and a gal can only wear Aligns for so long (smack my mouth).
I shouldn’t be afraid to buy clothes for where my body is now.
I could wax on for an entire post about how women will out off what they want until the situation is perfect — I’ll buy new clothes when I lose 15 pounds, I’ll book that vacation when I finish this deal, I’ll buy that new rug once I go full quaso with Marie Kondo — and then we get busy, and we don’t do what we want because we didn’t meet our prerequisite. It’s silly!
It bears repeating: you deserve clothes that fit you well, that you feel good in. No matter what your body looks like or how it may change in the coming months.
So that’s what I’d like to do. Dress myself for where I’m at, and maybe help some other gals who are in the same boat as me find things that make them feel like the fabulous women they are.
I’ll say this: at 36, I’m not filling an entire closet with fast fashion Amazon-ish finds (though I will occasionally). It’s problematic from a human rights/environmental standpoint, and it’s simply not great quality from an investment standpoint. On the flip side, I’m also not able to spend $300 on a top, sooooo we’re meeting somewhere in the middle. I’m also in the middle of paying off my student loans (the only debt we have!), so I want a good deal of the clothes I buy to do double duty for me. Not to say I won’t buy sequins — I will, if we ever leave the house again — but work-to-social-setting transition pieces and casual-but-put-together work from home attire is in my wheelhouse.
Plus, right now I’m struggling with the get-up-and-go. I’m recovering from postpartum hair loss from hell, so I have tiny sprouts of fuzz coming out of my temples. I haven’t had Botox/Juvaderm/Restylane in a year and a half. I’ve had one pedicure since Scout was born and my fingernails are garbage. Feeling busted as hell is not a feeling unique to me, but coupled with the postpartum body image, it’s hard. Some days, I just sit in my pajamas working, sumo hair in a pointy knot, no makeup, being a slug.
I’m not a slug. I like looking nice. But if a tree puts on makeup in the forest and no one takes a selfie, did it even happen?
Maybe it’s silly, but it’s hard to get motivated to get ready sometimes when you know you’ll just be on the couch all day. The internal skirmish, though, when you just exist like a slug is rough. It affects my self-confidence and my self-worth. And I don’t want to feel like that anymore.
My friend Shaina posted a quote on Instagram that hit me right in the gut:
I didn’t begin to prioritize self-care until I saw how precisely my daughter admired and mimicked my every move. And I realized that self-neglect wasn’t the legacy I wanted to pass down for her.
That convicted me, y’all. I know Scout isn’t old enough to really SEE what’s happening with me, but she picks up more than I know, and soon enough, she’ll be doing everything I do. If I can’t care enough to take care of myself, how can I stress to her the importance of her own self-care? That there’s something to be said for getting yourself up and changed, and how it can so dramatically impact your mood.
Thank you for making it this far and wading through my swamp brain. If any of this interests you, you can follow along the following ways —
- I have a LIKEtoKNOW.it account (@whyhity, of course, but you already knew that)
- There is also a “Shop” tab up top that links to that page
- I’ll have blog posts with my outfits (and Instagram posts)
Full disclosure: some of the things I’ll post will have an affiliate link, which means if you purchase it, I’ll get a small commission. I want to be 100% transparent with that. However, I’ll always just send a link if you ask. Also, like I said above, this isn’t a plan to replace my day job. I really like my day job. I just think this would be fun.
Lest anyone think I’ll leave behind what I usually post, let me assure you, I won’t. There will still be opinionated posts, pictures of Scout and Louie, and the occasional cocktail. Women are multi-dimensional, though, and this is something that interests me. So YOLO, right? Let’s get fashion-y and shit.