Change That I Can Wear

I’m embarrassed to show my proverbial face around here after going AWOL for more than a week. Sorry about that. Nothing personal. I just kind of hit a wall. There’s something about the change of seasons, particularly summer to fall, that always makes me feel like my “to do” list has tripled. Probably that it does actually triple. The joys of home ownership become the pains-in-the-ass of home ownership — lawn maintenance, repairs best-completed during warm weather, blah blah blah. (God, it’s boring even to list them.) Come September, there always seems to be a list of to-do’s that I swore last spring would get done “over the summer” and, well, now it’s fall. There’s also fun, but time-consuming, things that come with fall like figuring out Lilly’s Halloween costume, going apple- or pumpkin-picking, pretending I’m actually going to get an early start on Christmas shopping. And then there’s the clothes situation. Man, do I hate the clothes situation.

Back before I had Lilly, I loved shopping. I’ve always struggled with finding the clothes I want in my size, but who doesn’t? At least I could spend a day with girlfriends or just by myself wandering from store to store, sometimes backtracking, and figuring it all out. Now. . . not so much. These days buying clothes for myself ranks right up there with grocery shopping on a nap-free day. First, I have to choose my destination very carefully because too many times in and out of the car makes Lilly cranky; so I have to maximize my options with a single parking. (And did I mention that I hate malls?) Then, once in a store, I need about 10 minutes to walk around thinking, “when did this come back in style?” and “seriously, we’re bringing back the ’80s of all decades?” Once I manage to swallow the vomit that has risen in my throat after those 10 minutes, and convince myself that I might be able to tolerate bright colors and skinny jeans again, I proceed to grab the least offensive clothes I can find in 2-3 sizes each because who the hell knows what size I am anymore. Next an already-bored-and-restless Lilly and I cram into a dressing room for the most demoralizing part of this outing. As I consider whether the floor is too filthy for me to stand on in socks or (yuck!) bare feet, I watch Lilly sprawl out on it, face-down, happily picking up random goldfish crackers and grabbing a quick bite. I pray to God that I gave her goldfish crackers sometime recently, try on my pile of clothes, refuse to buy into the concept that anything other than black is the new black and walk out empty-handed. Then sometime in the next week or so when I’m picking up diapers at Target, I buy a generic-looking pullover that’ll match the two pairs of jeans that still fit me and figure I’ll buy “real” clothes another day. Two years later, I’m seriously lacking some real clothes.

It starts out innocently enough. I had just had a baby and was breastfeeding. Why buy clothes now when my body is changing so much? The next season I knew I was due for new clothes, but I just had a few more pregnancy pounds to lose, so I’ll just wait until those are gone. Then the real excuses started: I really shouldn’t be spending this money on me – I’m not working after all; I’ll wait for the end of the season and stock up for next year; Well, maybe I’ll be pregnant again next year – I’ll wait and buy them then; and the cycle begins again.

Since about halfway through the summer, I’ve been getting increasingly agitated by pulling out Target clothes that I hate but wear on a regular basis and staples from pre-baby times that I love but are really showing their age. I began fearing that I was quickly becoming the moms I see on What Not To Wear who are still wearing their clothes from high school after completely letting themselves go after having kids. So, I’ve decided it is time for a change. No more Target clothes. No exceptions.

I feel like I’m learning to shop for the first time and it’s exhausting. So I decided that I need a plan, some guidelines. Since I’m basically starting from scratch, my plan is to try to follow Tim Gunn’s 10 Essential Elements for a basic wardrobe plus a few extras in the “Sweatsuit Alternative” category — or work clothes, if you will — and the “Any Occasion Top” category for nights out with the girls or Elliott.

The challenge for me is that after two years of buying pretty much nothing but baby/toddler clothes, my price expectations are a bit skewed. With one good clearance rack, I can buy Lilly an entire season’s worth of clothes for $100. I have to get out of that mindset. I’m trying to think European — fewer items, better quality. I need to be methodical to stay on a modest budget. I’ll need some encouragement to be able to overcome my impulse, gap-filling method of shopping to “make it work,” Tim Gunn-style.

So, ladies, please let me know where and how you like to shop to save money and look good. Know any good places to shop online? Good ways to get deals? Places that don’t mind screaming toddlers and deflated moms? In other words: Help!

The Change That I Can Wear by MushBrain, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Terms and conditions beyond the scope of this license may be available at mushbrain.net.