Now, now, British members of the Infintessimal Readership, it's not what you think. I am wearing underwear.
But three weeks ago, when I packed for our trip to the country, I realized The Bean was all set. She had what she needed to stylishly galavant through the Pennsylvania country fields and along the promenade in Sea Isle City, NJ. Pants, onsies, dresses, bloomers, bonnets, and sweaters.
But mommy didn't. I had no pants. Correction. I had one solitary pair that wasn't M clothes, and that pair, while a favorite, was stained and has seen better days. Now, lounging around at my mother's place required absolutely no real clothing (yoga pants and t-shirts were the extent of my wardrobe for the majority of the week). So just before I left to go down the shore, my mom and I took The Bean on a desperate jaunt to The Mall (choices are not that broad in not-even-suburban Philly; and we were in need of speedy shopping).
The Gap was closest to the mall entrance. So while Grandmom changed The Bean (and into a morbidly uncoordinated outfit - note to mommy: pack only solid color onsies as backups in the diaper bag), I ran in and tried on about 10 pairs of pants as fast as humanly possible. I also snagged a couple of Ts and button downs - the latter of which were sweetly detailed with great patterns and ruffles. I thought they'd look great with the rough and tumble cargos I'd snagged.
Ruffles don't look good on nursing boobs.
But I did come out with 1 pair of higher-waisted (think Kate H.) trouser jeans, 1 pair of hip mommy cargos (pockets are key for things like binkys), and 1 pair of caramel slacks - in case I feel like dressing up someday. I also snagged two marvelously soft Ts with great detailing on the neck.
Now...if only I could follow my own fashion advice....it's terribly important to pair opposite silouhettes: slouchy with tailored, plain with frilly, etc. Which means I shouldn't wear the mildly slouchy Ts with the cargos if I don't want to look like the super slouchy mom.
But if you see a happy lady pushing a stroller down the street, looking all baggy (yet somehow stylish), that's me.