Obsessed. Conceited. Vain.
Those are some words that have been used to describe me.
Not because I talk about myself incessantly or brag about my exploits. Not because I launch myself into a room and demand to be the center of attention.
Why would someone say such things?
Because I try to look nice when I leave my house… You know, some mascara and lipstick, my hair fixed, an outfit that matches… Jewelry that compliments. A real purse not a garbage bag, diaper bag or recyclable shopping bag. I wear nice perfume. Bulgari, Vera Wang, Issey Miyaki. Chanel.
In some parts of the US I would be sadly under-dressed as it is painfully true that I cannot maintain a manicure of ANY kind for any length of time and my lips and nails do not match. My dear friend, Beth, from Alabama, painted her nails 2-4x a week.
It blows my mind.
See, here’s the reality, my fantastic readers. I am chubby. I have a nice face *rolls eyes* but the body is, well, 36 and has borne children. I’ve never been the willowy young thing. Ever. I was always. For lack of a better term. Sturdy. Strong. Built for farm labor. I can move whatever piece of furniture I need to, carry my 12 year old, 140lb, son if I need to. I’m not “fragile”.
Ok, that just made me laugh out loud.
So, you take what you have and do the best with it that you can, right?
I suppose. But it’s more than that.
I want my husband to be proud to be seen with me, not embarrassed by a woman who has a slovenly appearance. I want to look like someone loves me. Which they would anyway. I just want to LOOK that way.
I would rather not have my sons embarrassed by a sweatpants frumpy mom. My mom was the jean skirt, pin curls and hankie on her head type.
I represent our family no matter where I am. And I intend to do that well. Or at least to the best of my ability.
Which doesn’t mean that I spend vast amounts of time and money on myself. See, that’s what makes these accusations so stinkin’ funny.
Everything, well ALMOST everything I own is 2nd hand. 98% of my clothing is yard sale/thrift store. I have yet to purchase undergarments 2nd hand. Eww…
I do my own hair. Color AND cut. My make up is often found at 2nd hand stores (although I do draw the line at used). Or Walmart. My jewelry comes from estate sales and junk stores. Not that any of it looks that way and I have been given some gorgeous vintage pieces.
But living this way is the only way I can afford to wear the brands I love.
For example… Yesterday. Goodwill. Gorgeous Exclusive Boutique Store Downtown Brand shirt. New with price tag. $108.00 I got it for less than $20. And that’s the most I’ve spent on a shirt in probably 9 years?
My closet is full of Patagonia, boutique-y stuff, Ann Taylor… My shoes are nice too. I have an obsession with Dansko shoes. I rarely pay more than $20 a pair. But I probably shouldn’t have so many.
Purses… Dooney’s , Coach, Prada… Love Prada.
My point is not to boast about all the cashmere I am collecting or the incredible pashmina I just scored. My point is that if I can do this for an overall budget of less than $30 a month, if I’m trying… Why can’t anyone?
And, besides the obvious concern these ladies have, that I am desperately trying to seduce their man *excuse me while I die laughing*, could they be any catty-er?
I know this is stupid to put out there but, seriously.
Sometimes I hate girls.