We live in a town that has two side walks. One on each side of Main Street – and they only cover about half of it’s length, at that. Everybody is insanely casual here – it makes Whitehorse look like the sartorial equivalent of Vancouver. (And oh my GOD do cities like that ever blow my MIND. Peeple there look – to me – like they dress for freaking photo shoots, just to go to the mall! AMAZING.)
I stay at home, I don’t work, I don’t go anywhere except playgroup. I don’t need nice clothes. I know this. But the other day I was sorting through laundry and so much of what I have seemed to be stretched out, and faded, and lots of things had holes or frayed looking patches. It’s not the end of the fucking world, right but damn. Sometimes I actually do want to feel like I look *nice*. Thing is, I have to do it without feeling silly – really, who am I going to wear the clothes for. Éowyn? Stephen? Shit, he could care less. I know people say things like “Oh do it for yourself” but… whatever man. I’m not going to dress up just to fuck around on the computer, play with the baby, mop the floors, cook lunch, and go to playgroup, I don’t feel comfortable about that.
But oh! My leather jacket. My leather jacket that I bought while I was pregnant and couldn’t wear until I had the baby. That jacket was a DAMN good investment. Because I feel like a hot mama in that thing, walkin around the Hop Farm with my baby. 🙂 Bet your ass I feel good EVERY time I put it on. And I never feel silly for it.