I don't get the fashion these days. I have sadly fallen into a clothing abyss which has rendered my present wardrobe a collection of jeans, boots and functional tops. Mom camo I call it. Heck most of the time I'm too tired to care what I'm wearing. Too poor to shop better and anything I own is destined to be fouled by the inevitable banana smear that won't come out.
On a rare moment of solace, I took the time to browse the mall and was so bewildered by the 5th shop! What madness has overtaken the planet? Are all the retailer buyers doing acid during lunch because nothing seems to be made with me in mind. mWhat trippin' fool decided that Mercurochrome orange is the colour de jour this summer? Unless you have a deep, cancer-inducing tan you just look jaundice, or at least I do. Am I the only one?
The trends have all gone elasticated-ankles on us. Unless you're built like Madonna, it just looks doff. And why on earth would someone want to marry workout gear with the hallowed jean in the first place? Does Levi know of this travesty? I'm sure there are photos stashed in an old biscuit tin of my mother sporting this look in the late seventies and I am of the firm opinion that some trends go away to die in shame and this must be one of them. I also nominate the ever appearing catsuit be cremated too! Argh, they are awful. They are now making them in a hot-pant version so not only am I treated to a camel-toe exhibition but it now comes complete with a cellulite sideshow! Unless you're built like a stick insect in which case I'm just jealous so could you please stop parading your perfect body around me and go and eat a doughnut!
Know you limits I say. I would never don a micro-mini knowing that my legs are on the "heavy" side and I just end up looking like a plus-size hooker. So why are big girls wearing leggings (another nemesis!)? They must take forever to get dressed - hours in a hot bath, melting their thighs down to pour them into pants that are too tight! They always end up looking like they've got a corset on their bums! Now don't misunderstand me, I am not dissing the curvy among us, I am merely observing that just because its being sold in a size 40 doesn't mean it looks good.
About sizing. I have an issue with this. Mr Price would get a whole lot more of my patronage if they adjusted their clothing back to "real people" size! Most times I've got to take a 14! Not very good for my fragile, female ego. Hell, if I fitted into anything labelled 30 I would by seven in every colour they had just for the rush every time I got dressed.
Incidentally I was trawling the factory shop mecca in the south and ambled into a real swishy label outlet and the kind assistant asked if she could help. I said yeah sure I'm looking for jeans, I'm usually a 32/34. Then she committed the ultimate sin and handed me a 30! I told her I was flattered that she gauged me to be so skinny but that they wouldn't fit. She just winked and said huskily "just try them on would you". OMG, they fitted and I was shrieking in euphoria in the change room. I had a total Heidi Klum moment. Sadly they were too short (I am a rather tall animal - at least that's what everyone tells me) darn darn darn! But yikes it was lekker for a nanosecond. And ding dong...Vanity sizing.
This made think back to my aunt visiting from Canada a few years back and blowing the lid off what they term vanity sizing! A concept I can't say I'm against. So in South Africa you're a 10, in the UK you're a 12, in North America you're a 2 (mercy me!) but in China you're still a XXXXXXXXL! Like I say, wouldn't you want to stock up clothes labelled in Barbie size? Good way to start the day. Cheaper than cocaine. I still can't figure the size zero girls. What size is a zero anyway? Are these real people or do they inhabit lala cuckoo-land (again, just jealous!).
I am no fashionista. Post-partum I struggle to find anything vaguely flattering. It's like revenge of the body snatchers. Let's just say that bits and pieces didn't quite go back to where I expected them to. In a nutshell I ended up boobless with a muffin top! The King gets so mad at me because at the beginning of every season I just hit the cheapest outlet and pick up 5 t-shirts in different colours and choose a new skirt or two. I wish the cast of What Not to Wear lived in cupboard. I worship the ground Trinny and Susannah walk on. I must just add that it's no fun going clothes shopping solo. I need another bundle of oestrogen to tell me how wonderful I look and hear those coveted words " you have so gotta buy it!".
I need a new cozzie and funnily enough today I was chatting with 2 mates about this. You see I talked my dearest mama into buying a magic costume. She looks fabulous in it too. Basic black and I imagine her in her sunnies and wide-brimmed hat doing a Sophia Loren at the poolside. Now she's lucky. She's got a killer pair of pins and since having her gall bladder removed a year ago has lost a million kilograms! I am going to have to eat humble pie, gird my loins and go and try one of these cozzies on for myself. Sauce for goose and all. I am just weary that the science behind the costume will "magic" all my bits inside it. It's the bits on the outside I'm worried about. Perhaps I could suggest that they make an ankle-to-armpit version? They could make it all flesh toned and just make the cozzie bit a colour. Anyone got contacts at Woolworths? And as I write this the King quips from the sofa that if all else fails I can always just wear my scuba wetsuit!
As always, we can't all be perfect.
16 November 2011
9 November 2011
Why do we do it?
I am by no means a model mother. In fact I am still waiting for the zen-earth-mother-experience to set in!
Her majesty is onto that testing stage. Old enough to babble, too young to be understood. I akin her frustration to that of stroke victims whose minds are still able but whose tongues are unwilling.
Not a day goes by that I don't consider quitting. Motherhood ain't for sissies and God only knows why I signed up for it full time. I must be some kind of stupid. Or secretly made of tough stuff I just haven't discovered yet.
I wonder how my mother muddled through without killing my sister and I at toddlerhood! But I can now relate to her then perceived moods.I commented to a friend on Facebook the other day that I wonder how people have more than one child. Are they mad????? Are they daft???? Are they seriously gluttons for punishment or did I miss some cosmic memo that promises a pot of gold and a day off?
I have learnt/am learning that children are embarrassing. Until they are old enough to understand social graces and decorum they basically make you cringe in a corner picking snot off their fingers with a smile on your face whilst hoping nobody noticed that they discovered the all-you-can-eat buffet up their noses.
Her majesty has just taken to licking the grass in our back garden. Hello? We have four dogs ranging from ankle height to jugular range. And they poo and pee all over the place. Why on earth would she want to ingest it? Is this normal? And yet I am often tempted to let her do it and get it off her to-do-list! Eat poo - check. Stick fingers up dogs' bum - check. Pull wings off a fly - check. Madness.
And all this being said I am thankful that I am surrounded by many other women at a similar life stage whose kids are being just as gross if not worse. Phew, thank heavens for that. While everyone is watching little Fred doing a Picasso likeness with his own poo, they haven't noticed that my princess has walloped an unsuspecting child with the xylophone and then dropped it for something seemingly more interesting. Attention span of a gnat!
I envy all those women swanning around in perpetual serenity. How do they do it? Do they have a closet drinking habit to help them cope because they must be doing something and you can't tell me they rely on the power of prayer and meticulous journal keeping. Lies lies lies I tell you.
In an effort to up my parenting ante I invested in the Supernanny book. I hold it in very high esteem. For a woman who has no training or children of her own she sure has the toddler brain sussed. Her techniques really work, if you have the inner strength to see it through. We now have a naughty spot and it works so well I am sometimes tempted to banish the king to it! Don't judge. It works for our family but it may not work for yours.
Life is fraught with struggle I am learning and for the most part I can take it all in my stride. I have a frustratingly understanding husband who is ever patient. But some days the wheels come off and I run out of funny. That obscure moment when you instantly lose the ability to laugh at yourself and situations and crumble like a cracker. This happens often too. I swear when I had my Caesar the doctor removed my coping mechanism!
But like all other full time moms I wouldn't change it for the world. I am tired all the time. I haven't had a full night's sleep since 2009. I can't remember when last the king and I went on a date. My beloved pets have been downgraded to just being dogs. I tend to bark orders like a Sgt, Major and have discovered my "Mommy Voice". I am a terrible person but this is what having children does to you.
PS. I think my bum is getting bigger. As if I don't have enough to worry about.
Toodles
Her majesty is onto that testing stage. Old enough to babble, too young to be understood. I akin her frustration to that of stroke victims whose minds are still able but whose tongues are unwilling.
Not a day goes by that I don't consider quitting. Motherhood ain't for sissies and God only knows why I signed up for it full time. I must be some kind of stupid. Or secretly made of tough stuff I just haven't discovered yet.
I wonder how my mother muddled through without killing my sister and I at toddlerhood! But I can now relate to her then perceived moods.I commented to a friend on Facebook the other day that I wonder how people have more than one child. Are they mad????? Are they daft???? Are they seriously gluttons for punishment or did I miss some cosmic memo that promises a pot of gold and a day off?
I have learnt/am learning that children are embarrassing. Until they are old enough to understand social graces and decorum they basically make you cringe in a corner picking snot off their fingers with a smile on your face whilst hoping nobody noticed that they discovered the all-you-can-eat buffet up their noses.
Her majesty has just taken to licking the grass in our back garden. Hello? We have four dogs ranging from ankle height to jugular range. And they poo and pee all over the place. Why on earth would she want to ingest it? Is this normal? And yet I am often tempted to let her do it and get it off her to-do-list! Eat poo - check. Stick fingers up dogs' bum - check. Pull wings off a fly - check. Madness.
And all this being said I am thankful that I am surrounded by many other women at a similar life stage whose kids are being just as gross if not worse. Phew, thank heavens for that. While everyone is watching little Fred doing a Picasso likeness with his own poo, they haven't noticed that my princess has walloped an unsuspecting child with the xylophone and then dropped it for something seemingly more interesting. Attention span of a gnat!
I envy all those women swanning around in perpetual serenity. How do they do it? Do they have a closet drinking habit to help them cope because they must be doing something and you can't tell me they rely on the power of prayer and meticulous journal keeping. Lies lies lies I tell you.
In an effort to up my parenting ante I invested in the Supernanny book. I hold it in very high esteem. For a woman who has no training or children of her own she sure has the toddler brain sussed. Her techniques really work, if you have the inner strength to see it through. We now have a naughty spot and it works so well I am sometimes tempted to banish the king to it! Don't judge. It works for our family but it may not work for yours.
Life is fraught with struggle I am learning and for the most part I can take it all in my stride. I have a frustratingly understanding husband who is ever patient. But some days the wheels come off and I run out of funny. That obscure moment when you instantly lose the ability to laugh at yourself and situations and crumble like a cracker. This happens often too. I swear when I had my Caesar the doctor removed my coping mechanism!
But like all other full time moms I wouldn't change it for the world. I am tired all the time. I haven't had a full night's sleep since 2009. I can't remember when last the king and I went on a date. My beloved pets have been downgraded to just being dogs. I tend to bark orders like a Sgt, Major and have discovered my "Mommy Voice". I am a terrible person but this is what having children does to you.
PS. I think my bum is getting bigger. As if I don't have enough to worry about.
Toodles
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