The Clothes on My Back

I've never been much of a girly girl about make-up or clothes or accessories. At least, not always. There have been times in my life when, many pounds lighter and several years younger, I found joy in shopping for and trying on fetching new styles.

Not so much these days. Now comfort is key, and fashion is something I admire on younger women.

I hadn't realized how bad I'd gotten over the years until I saw an older Saturday Night Live "commercial" in which they poked fun at "Mom Jeans." And I'm sitting there thinking, "Now, those jeans look pretty good." It made me feel a little nauseous. I used to laugh at that skit, but this time, it made me uneasy. I started to take a mental tour of my wardrobe, and realized that my winter clothes consist of slacks and jeans, all with the word "relaxed" in their name and in a size that would have made my 23-year-old self weep. Then there are the oversize sweaters and tented t-shirts to cover an abundance of too-many-donuts syndrome.

Although my weight is certainly a factor, style is still a problem. If I did lose the weight, would I be any more stylish than I am now? Or would I just get smaller sizes of the same mom-style fashions I currently don?

The truth is, I just don't have the style sense -- or the the energy -- to become a fashionista at this stage of my life. I have friends in my age range who continue to carry it off beautifully (you know who you are, Pam). I, alas, am not so blessed.

Someday, maybe, when I shed the weight, I will reward myself by trolling the internet for the perfect ensembles to show off my new svelte self. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll wear clothes that make me look sophisticated, elegant, happening.

End of dream sequence.

In the meantime, I need to head over to the department store to pick up a couple pairs of pants for work. Time to don my blinders so I only have to see myself  one-way in the three-way mirror. And remind myself not to peek until all surfaces have been covered.

Wagons ho!