(Jen at My Skewed View, Jean at Mama Schmama, Sarah at Left Brain Buddha, Stephanie at Mommy, For Real, Deb at Urban Moo Cow, Sarah at The Sadder but Wiser Girl, Katia at I am the Milk, Rachel at Tao of Poop, Jane at Nothing by the Book)
The hostesses of this hop are using it as an opportunity to point out the insidiousness of fashion grading during the awards season and have a little fun showing their informal fashion choices. I also might have sensed a little (gentle) fun poked at fashion blogging. Now I haven't read all the posts, but this is what I've gathered from the posts I've read (so if I painted you with too wide a brush, I am sorry).
So I feel called to offer another point of view. Not because I was at all offended, but what's a blog for if not to express your own point of view?
I love fashion. I watch awards shows to see the dresses (and Jennifer Lawrence). I admit it. I love seeing what stars are wearing, and I happily read the ratings when EW arrives in the mail. It's insidious, yes; but I'm am cheerfully failing at integrity in this area.
|Pattern mixers of a feather|
I love the process of defining my personal style and knowing what is trendy right now. I am proud that I was wearing stripes and plaid together when I was two, and now that's a trend! I love that I have a few genuine vintage items as well as a genuine pair of designer jeans (consigned). I love examining which colors flatter my complexion and which styles show off my figure to best advantage (or make me look like I have one). I love that I own eight pairs of boots (including snow and rain ones; come on, that's really not that many pairs). I love taking pictures of my outfits and texting them to the GGs for feedback and validation.
When I am feeling like all I do is cook, clean, run errands, and play mindless activities, at least I can get dressed in something creative and original (maybe) and pretty. It makes me feel a little more like my own person, instead of just a person who meets others' incessant needs.
So there's my defense of dressing up and making an attempt to stand out from the crowd.
But, here's the thing: I read most of the posts (of blogs I follow) this morning, and I noticed that almost every mother was in sweats, yoga pants, etc. Looking down, I saw the same: my late aunt's fleece pants, a tank top in case I get hot, and a hoodie in case I get cold. No shoes or socks (cold toes are preferable to restricted feet). Hair unbrushed and in a top knot.
And, when the bus pulls up outside our house, I head out through the crowd of neighborhood children and parents in just that, but with my parka and The Dude's duck boots from high school in this polar vortex.
The truth is, I only get really dressed if I have to leave the house.