To frump or not

Yesterday was laundry day. The clothes that were loaded into the machine say a lot about the person I have become.

I have a whole drawer and closet full of nice tops, pants, and dresses. And there they have stayed since September when I stopped working. Every once in a while, one gets a little vacation from what could almost be called storage at this point. I imagine it a little like the toys in Toy Story 3 when Andy doesn’t play with his toys anymore, but they get excited when he touches one of them. My clothes lay still in my drawer. “You know the drill ladies. Just act natural. You don’t want to seem too eager. Black and white tunics out of the way, she always picks you, give the rest of us a chance!” I grab a shirt  and they all cheer. “She touched me! She thought about wearing me! She picked me!! See you later ladies!!” But then the sadness sets back in when they realize that they will not be looked at again for days or even weeks. “The jerks downstairs get all the action. They don’t know how good they have it,” a shiny, fancy shirt complains.

Those downstairs neighbors would be the pajamas and then below them, the tshirts and yoga pants. They seem to get all the love and wear these days. Those clothes that got dumped into the washing machine yesterday…95% of them were from one of those two drawers.

Nice, right? All comfy and cozy clothes, all the time? Sounds amazing! And it is. Mostly. Until I realize that this also means that I have been going through life the last 6 months looking like a rumpled, sloppy version of my former self. I’m usually a decent dresser. Yet, when I look in the mirror lately, I don’t see that. I see…frump. If I’m home, then sure, the frump uniform works. And my BFF and I have come to an understanding where the comfy, frumpy uniform is not only acceptable but almost required at our homes. When we see each other in an actual outfit, we immediately ask, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?? lol. But sometimes when I’m out and about at a play place or a restaurant, I start to feel like maybe I should have kicked it up a notch or two in the clothing department. Sure, there are many other moms dressed like me, but there many others dressed in REAL clothes. And I feel like maybe if I had thrown on some some jeans, I might feel a little better about my mom self. And can’t we all use a little confidence boost once in a while?

The other day, we were visiting my mother in law. I threw on my standard blah tshirt, lazy yoga pants, and dull flannel. I looked in the mirror and this time my brain fought back. NO! I will not leave the house like this. I will let the old me out! The nice looking me! I found some jeans that were buried in my closet and then walked over to the dresser. If I listened really hard, I could swear I could hear whispers coming from the drawer. I rummaged through the shirts and at the bottom, I found my favorite shirt that I hadn’t worn in forever! It wasn’t one of 3 black and white tunics I’ve been choosing over and over the last few months. It was a springy looking flowered shirt that I love. I could faintly hear cheering. I put on the new outfit and before even looking, I already felt better. I turned around to check out my reflection and smiled. I felt pretty. I felt like I looked good, and it’s been a long while since that has been the case. And that felt good. So I actually showed up at their house in real clothes. It was a miracle.

Of course…I still left the house in jammie pants and a tshirt…a girl can only hold out so long.