You’ve been a faithful friend all these years, charting the journey with me from college trends through working girl to baby years. We’ve had some good times together– the Tevas, the capri pants, the cowboy boots, hoodies and jeans, attire for endless weddings. And the maternity clothes – should we even start on them? The ones we wore, packed away, pulled back out again (and again); the ones we borrowed and returned; the ones so spit-up-covered that they finally went the way of the rag pile.
And here we are today, Wardrobe. Four babies and one stretched-out mid-section later, we acknowledged that the pre-baby wear is not - in many cases – going to be gracing this body again. The two moves we made in the last 18 months added to the “go” pile too, because we were determined – weren’t we? – that we wouldn’t schlep any on-the-fence numbers along with us. We were OK with that – the sorting, the weeding out, the donating. So today, only the stuff that’s wearable and decently-fitting grace your sweet hangers. It was a good reduction, and we don’t regret it.
Right now we’re doing fine, Wardrobe. We manage everyday wear just fine; we have some workable dressy clothes for holidays or parties. Heck, we even still have some suits that fit us for the very rare occasion that one of those might be needed.
But Wardrobe, we have a situation. What on earth can we do about the scanty, uncoordinated mishmash that pretends to be our “business casual” section? I know, Wardrobe, I only need this stuff once in a blue moon, so I have no right to be demanding. But the random array of items that now constitute this ragtag collection – a blazer here, a cami there (way too cold for winter), dress pants that don’t match the blazers, no dress sweaters anymore to speak of…. What’s a girl to do? And I can’t blame you for losing track of my belts… Heck, I haven’t worn one in at least two years, at the muffin top’s strict insistence. But in just this one attire case, I can’t get away without one. So, surely you can dig deep in there and cough up a black one? Just one is all I’m asking.
I shouldn’t complain, I know. That I get to work a little on the side, doing stuff I really enjoy, and mostly from home (the yoga pants and hoodie sweatshirt you outfit me with work ideally), is a privilege I don’t take lightly. That I have a husband who supports me and will finagle a way to assist with kid coverage for my once-a-year in-person meetings is even more of a gift. But Wardrobe, we need to cobble something together here. The meeting is after all a professional gathering; I can’t show up looking like Pippi Longstocking.
So pretty please, Wardrobe, work me some magic. You gotta have something else in there you can pull out of your hat… Because at this stage, I can’t say that the hour we’ve now spent together on this has yielded the results I’d hoped for.
P.S. from 6:30 the next morning
Well Wardrobe, I’m not sure my colleagues will have the same generous eye, but good news! We managed to pull the thing over on my eight-year-old son. “Wow, Mom,” his voice said, awe-fully – almost as if he didn’t recognized me as I bustled in, “you look great!” Apparel be damned; the heart was warm and glowing at that point. So thank you.
Originally posted in February, 2014