Nothing makes you feel like an adult more than making your bed. There are all sorts of blog posts and articles on why this habit is good for you (all of which I ignored for years), and I’ll let those speak for themselves. Coming home to a nicely made-up bed is one of the best feelings in the world! Take the extra 45 seconds to do that in the morning.
I love pretty clothes. Pretty things in general make me happy, but I loooove pretty clothes. Whether it’s perfect Tailored Sportsmans or an embroidered blouse or a flattering dress, it makes me happy to see. Even happier to touch.
I also love comfortable clothes. Comfortable rooms and soft blankets too, but I loooove comfy clothes. Leggings aren’t really my comfy jam, but I can’t resist those fleece-lined baggy sweatpants and oversized sweatshirts.
This poses a bit of a dilemma for me: every time I go shopping- regardless of what I walked in there to buy- I walk out of the store with (a) a dress (b) sweats or (c) both. My closet has a whole wall of dresses (arranged from casual to formal rather than by color), and a whole rack of sweats.
Clothes that are actually appropriate for my casual office? Those take up about half a rack in the back.
The only reason I even have any appropriate clothes to wear to work is because of my mother. Half of my everyday clothes are hand-me-downs, and the other half were gifts from her. Without her I would be the best dressed hobo lady at work.
So this post is really two things: it’s a lament about my own inability to buy my own darn clothes, and it’s an ode to my ever-providing mother.
I try so hard, Reader, I really do. I make lists of needed purchases- a solid cardigan, a nice blouse- and I march into the outlets ready to buy. I grab all those necessaries and I head to the changing room, and I make sure it fits. And then I put it all on the rack because booooooring.
But that dress over there? It has sequins! Never mind that I don’t have any formal events in the next foreseeable future, I’m sure something will come up. I could always plan my own gala, right?
And if there’s a loungewear/pajama section, I’m gone. I know I don’t need another hoodie, but do we as humans really need anything besides food, water, and shelter? Why should I deprive myself of that hoodie? Don’t you want me to be happy?!
Afterwards I walk out of the store whistling, sequined dress and XXL sweatshirt in tow. Can’t even feel bad about it because sparkles and cozy!
To a certain extent, my momma totally encourages this. We love dress shopping together, and she sometimes will see something “that would just look perfect” and I get a lovely package a few days later (be jealous, my mom is the best ever). In fact, most of my dresses came from her. She also knows my adoration of comfy clothes and regularly gifts me with VS gift cards. In total, she keeps me well stocked in my favorite duds.
But thank goodness she has more sense than I do. All but two of my cardigans were hers at one point, and all of my blouses and sweaters were bought with her. Using her mom voice to say that we are only looking at sweaters that day is always necessary. She has the self control so I don’t have to. How will I ever learn?!
Shoes: the same. All either came direct from her closet or were bought with her approval. Thank goodness for a momma with fantastic style and the same shoe size. We can share everything except pants and short dresses- she’s a tiny little Greek woman and I’m 5’9 in flats.
I’m (very) slowly starting to even out. My one fashion rule is to not wear sweatpants out of the house, and I’ve stuck with that for long enough that I don’t want to break it. Even if it’s just jeans and a fleece, I will not wear sweatpants out. This means I need those “middle” clothes for every day, and it’s turned into a bit of a uniform.
Boots, jeans, tee, fleece quarter zip. I have those fleeces in 5 colors now (and before you ask, yes, they all came from my momma) and I make an appearance at Target whenever they do sales on basic tees.
Is it glamorous? Nope. Do I look like a mom from an LL Bean catalog? Totally. Do I still clean up nice when needed? You bet your butt I do.
But only because Mom is there to compensate for my terrible shopping skills.
Do you and your mom share clothes? Or would you never be caught dead in anything from her closet?