I am 41 years old. (Oh shut-up, you’ll be here soon as well) And it seems that the older I get, the fewer clothes that I have in my possession. I went from having a great professional wardrobe, to barely having jeans without holes and t-shirts that havent been victimized by constant cleaning with bleach. Oh, and we wont even discuss the shape of my bras and panties. (Cringe) It’s amazing my husband still thinks I am sexy. (Which I am only assuming he does)
Every few weeks or so I get the urge to go out and get some new clothes. “This week, “I say with vindication – “I am getting mama some new duds.”
The shopping always goes something l ike this. I stroll through the store checking out the clearance aisles first. Then, realizing that most of those clothes are out of season, I head to the juniors section. Then, I realize that I am too out of ‘season’ to be wearing clothes that flash my C-section belly flab. (And BTW, so are some of those teenagers I see walking around flashing their g-strings and Cheeto guts. Where are their mothers?) Then, I go to the women’s department and nearly vomit because I cannot force myself to wear clothes with appliques and embroidery.
Next stop, is the workout clothing department. Where I can always find something that pleases me because it is both affordable and comfortable and completely undated when it comes to age.
So, I come home with a new pair of yoga pants and maybe a t-shirt. A t-shirt that I can add to the collection of t-shirts I have with the names of softball teams and school clubs that my children belong to. The only difference is that these t-shirts are sans the bleach stains so far.
Stacy London would have a field day with me. One of the most difficult things about being 41 is that I don’t feel old, nor look old – but am certainly not young. Its sad when I like some of the same clothes that my teen daughters like. But I don’t want to be ‘one of those moms,’ who wears clothes out of the juniors department. And I certainly AM NOT going to wear clothes made by Alfred Dunner with cheesy embroidery on them that remind me of my grandmother.
So, I am left with what I refer to as fashion schizophrenia. And a disgusting array of clothes that are comfortable but don’t look very good on me. Who am I? What impression would I like to leave?
There has to be a middle ground. But, I have seriously searched many stores and have been unable to find it. For God’s sake, I am a housewife. A stay at home wokring mom. I don’t want to be all dolled up every day (Because Frankly whats the point?) and I don’t want to look like a teenage hooker either.
Help! Have you hit an age where you are finding it harder and harder to find the ‘right’ age appropriate clothes that are also comfortable and sensible?