There is ice and iced water everywhere in Harlem. On Wednesday, DH came back 5 minutes after leaving the house and said: ‘I cannot take L to the day care, it’s like a freaking ice rink out there’. So I had to do a work video conference call with Europe while L was smashing everything in the background and I had to throw breakfast food to L & P while they were watching TV. At this point, it is not multi-tasking. It is insanity.
Yesterday I had to push L’s stroller over mountains of icy snow; the poor chap felt like riding a Winterland roller coaster. Some people were looking at me ready to call Child Protection Services and I was like:‘I am SO going over this block of ice, I am. Watch me’. I am so sick of the snow, I am so OVER it.
Today to cheer me up, I took out from my ‘magic’ box, aka my accessories drawer, 2 things I love to complement a GAP little black dress and my MK rainboots:
– a feather ornament I made with 2 shoulder pads cut out from a 192os flapper dress and an old sparkling brooch. The pads used to belong this woman whose grandmother was a tap dancer and I got them for $10 via Ebay. Just love the idea of having the spirit of a dancer watching over me 🙂 I bet she kicked ass too.
– a golden thin stretch belt with a lion’s head as a clasp found in a stall at an Harlem flee market for $20. Snow: I am ROARING at you roaaaaaarrrrrrrrr
After a torrential rain on Friday, the sun was out big time this week end. We are now in June and I have now a fairly tanned skin that allows me to finally wear yellow tones. My skin color is odd, it normally ranges from brownish olive on a good day to duckling yellow on a so so day to grey on a very bad day. Growing up I used to hate sun tanning because being fair skinned was the top beauty feature in the Lao community. I was always on the darkish side or in their own words, I had the skin of a rice field farmer. I always found this hilarious because at the same time, my dad was always saying; ‘You have the hands of a lazy person: no cracks, no wrinkles,..Let’s pray god that you end up smart’. Talk about growing up confused 🙂
Anyway, today was a good day to 1-embrace my summer skin tone and 2-take part in the ‘Ain’t no mom jeans’ How to wear it: capris or cropped pants theme.
GAP cropped jeans, Campers sandals, Jaeger blouse (don’t you just love the garland collar?), vintage silk scarf bought a decade ago in Camden town market (London, England).
I have meant to write this post the very day I started my blog but I have been too much of a coward to do it. I have to be honest with myself and say it out loud: I have an addiction and it is time to kick it to the curb. I am a M.C.A i.e. a maternity clothing addict. G & P were born early 2011, L mid 2012 but I still owe and (pathetically) wear on a regular basis the following items
4 pairs of maternity jeans and trousers
2 maternity leggings
4 maternity dresses
At least 10 tops
and an embarrassingly number of bras and underpants which I will probably continue to buy until I die since I cannot see how I will be able to ever wear sexy lingerie again. The thought of running after my kids with a wedgie is very, very disturbing. Every time I try to throw something away, it finds its way back into my closet. My GAP maternity flare jeans literally spent one week on a bar stool, 10 mins on my trash can lid, 4 days on the bar stool, 1 day in the laundry basket and ended up back on the shelf of my wardrobe.
One of the reasons why I’m holding onto these is that my maternity wardrobe cost me a fortune because I went through 4 maternity sizes during both my pregnancies and I feel horrible throwing all this money away. Yes 4 sizes…
Small: I showed very early on and after two months I could not fit in my ‘normal’ clothes anymore. In fact most people thought I was in my second trimester. It was OK though because I could still play with accessories to distract from my belly. It was all about layers and layers of necklaces, oversized bows, oversized brooches hats and headpieces.
Medium and large: I quickly went through various sizes and fittings and had to give up jeans and trousers altogether. Prints had to go, they became a NO-NO when I found myself almost crying when I tried on a flower dress and looked like a freaking piñata.
Extra large: yes, for a woman who used to be a US size 6 before getting preggers it is quite an achievement. By month 7 of my first pregnancy, I was walking like a penguin about to die and was rolling out of bed like a whale about to die. I could not even wear leggings anymore and had to settle for LBDs (Large Black Dresses). The last month of my twin pregnancy I had to cut my extra large underwear on the sides to release the tightness around my thighs. It was bad. I think I kept these underpants as trophies for about a month after the twins were born. I am demented.
Here’s a snapshot of my journey.
But the main reason I am dragging my feet and indulge myself in these worn out sweatpants is that I am absolutely terrified by the three boxes on the bottom shelf of my wardrobe. These boxes contain my old clothes including my favorite JBrand skinny jeans. From time to time I peek into the box, pretend I am going to try my jeans on but eventually close the box. Not ready for the reality check.
But mark my words, I by this post swear that by the end of the year I will no longer wear any of my maternity clothing. Not one piece.