I just “accidentally” spent $100 on clothes.
I figured only half of the stuff would fit and/or look decent so it was really like I spent $50 and I’d just take the ugly back, right?
“Accidentally,” everything fit—and looked awesome.
I opened it up for discussion on my Facebook wall; I mean I’ve never had this dilemma before. Shopping for me tends to be a wham-bam affair. I find a shirt or capris that seem like they might work, and I buy and take home. Later I say a prayer to the hip Gods and try stuff on in the privacy of my dark closet. If they fit, I’m pleased, but more often… when they don’t I take them back between buying bread and eggs. I tend to be ‘fashion stupid’ so this is a regular event for me.
The other day I had a whole 25 minutes to myself and slipped into a discount clothing store, thinking I’d just buy a few fun and funky shirts, maybe a pair of summer pants for an upcoming trip to a social media conference in Charlotte, North Carolina. (Anyone gonna be at the Type-A Parent Conference in June? I would love to see you there!!)
I bought a couple of shirts with crazy stripes (totally not my usual bland mom-fashion) and not one but two (!) pairs of summer pants. I was feeling oh-so-wild that day, I guess? And later that evening I had to text my husband the above quote: “I accidentally spent $100 on clothes today.”
He didn’t mind and all the Facebook chatter ended with… “It’s almost Mother’s Day; keep the stuff and call it a gift to yourself!” Thank you, I did.
The funniest part is that my 14-year-old daughter keeps eyeing my new funky shirts. (She’s wearing one of them in the photo with me.) There’s no way MY pants would fit her… so don’t even go there. But I have to chuckle a little bit at her willingness to share my fashion, because lately she hates that I sing along to Adele. I mean, Please. As if Adele is “her” music? When it totally is MY music.
She recently laid down a new edict: Mom is not allowed to sing along to ANY music (in her presence) unless it was written the year I was born. I’m nearly 40—do the math. I am soooo not singing along to disco anytime soon!
So, I figure if I can’t sing to “her” music… I can at least dance to it (in my new accidental outfits)!