I was thinking about this for awhile. It just comes and goes. And with your help, I’m going to make it stay this time.
You know me and from the bits and pieces I’ve slipped here and there, you know many things about my style. And you also know I’m a mother. A happy wife and mother. Which should lower me heavily in the fashion community eyes. Because fashionistas, the real ones, only have eyes and heart (have they? A heart, really?) for fashion. Well. Not this girl here! (the story continues right after the jump)
Some of you, reading these lines, are mothers, some are not (and I hope you may be blessed with this “title”, the day you’d want it to!), but you all have friends, people you know holding that mommies fort. What are they like? Outside if not inside too?
Today I ran into a very saddening article. One which sets us in the dark ages of discrimination. We’re raised to know better than prejudge. We’re raised to do better than pointing the finger at someone else. However, when we’re talking about the tyranny of mothers (young mothers and mothers to be) and their toes-lethal strollers, everything we knew is tossed out the window. (the article can be found here)
True, just like any other forest, the mothers-kind hides some distorted branches, but who are we to judge the majority through the distorted minority perspective? Haven’t we learned better already? Sure, motherhood can bring some unknown challenges for a woman’s body and spirit. Sure, not everyone is ready to fight that unique joy of being part of the life miracle and steady down the enthusiasm (at least in public), but should we forget our manners on that account?
I’m thinking about all the joggling mothers out there. Those who weren’t asked if they could do everything they do all day, every day, they’re just doing it because it feels right, because it’s the world for them. Family, career, social life. And a decent, trendy wardrobe on top of that! I dare you, balance all that and keep a zen perspective on life! And everybody else! I may not wear the hottest jeans or the latest shoes, however, I keep a realistic eye on fashion and life and chose whatever fits best in my situation. Yes, I have a special stash of fashionable (and outrageously short paired with outrageously high heels) clothes for going out en amoureux, with my Adored Husband. But that’s my secret wardrobe treasure.
When you see a mother taking her children to school wearing something comfy and down to earth (sure, that doesn’t apply to Posh), would you imagine her as one of you? (who are not mothers yet?) would you, fully aware of the extent of your gesture, embrace her as one of yours? I sometimes get the distinctive, sorrowing feeling that mothers are a bit like aliens. You know they’re there, however, all you pray for is they keep the distance and follow their mad green path. (again, I’m not passing any judgments, I’m just sharing my observations and rants with you) That applies to pregnant women too! They have just been abducted by aliens and they’re like walking zombies. You just have to keep away, never know what privilege they may claim next! Ah, and beware of strollers! The worst kind of alien representation! They’ll mercilessly roll all over you precious Louboutins and leave you in screaming pains as your toes begin to feel the alien weight on your preciously pedicured toenails!
And again, proof de plus: Motherhood! Uma Thurman’s latest movie about a mother of two trying to keep it together while being a mother was a total flop in the UK. In the opening weekend, only 11 people bought the ticket to see the movie. Yes. you’re reading that right – eleven people watched Motherhood, on its first weekend. How’s that for encouraging? (via 1, 2, photos via 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)