Not that I had very much to begin with, but what little I’ve managed to cultivate in my 8 years of motherhood is slipping through my fingers, and it’s a tragedy to watch. My jeans are saggy and slightly stained. My tops are looking decidedly middle-aged. My hair is totally neglected, and to top it all off, I can’t remember the last time I bought a new pair of shoes.
My gorgeous friend the Divine Miss M admitted to me yesterday that she too felt rather unglamourous and ‘winterised’. “I had a waxing appointment booked, but I decided to cancel it as I needed sleep more than I needed to be hair-free”. This is a decision that only a mother of four would make. This naturally vivacious and stunningly attractive woman rarely wears make-up, but turns heads even at 9 and a half months pregnant! Her closing comment was one we could all relate to. “At least I look alright with winter clothes on.”
People keep asking me if I’ve had my hair cut, but it’s just been so long since it has been cut, that it looks like a different style! My hair is going through that awkward growing out stage where it isn’t any style at all, and on top of a total lack of chic, it’s been almost 4 months since I had my foils done. A decidedly un-kempt, rather frumpy look. Not one to impress the hubby, and it’s even getting a bit depressing when I look at myself in the mirror.
When I was pregnant, my style mantra was “If you can’t wear cool clothes, at least have good hair and funky shoes.” Ah, no. While at least I’m no longer pregnant and wearing black everything with a beach ball stuck up my shirt (and a few towels and assorted swimmers stuffed in other unexpected locations), it’s just not quite happening.
Here we are just at the end of term 2, and Miss Almost 8 needs a new pair of school shoes. I’d been polishing them regularly, (as all shoe-obsessed Mums do) not really taking too much notice, but the day her toe poked through, I decided a closer inspection was warranted. Not only was the top holey, but the sole was worn flat and totally through in two places. Damn that skipping!
So off we trudge, after school one day, three tired hungry children in tow to the shoe shop. We find the shoes for Missy, when the sales assistant tells me that there is a sale on at the moment. Buy one pair, get another half price! Oooohhh, my eyes were roving the display, as I licked my lips. A cute little red flat for running around after the kids, an edgy pair of silver trainers or a cute kitten heel that I just can’t resist, but hardly ever have the chance to wear? Master Almost 6 tugs at my sleeve. “Mum, you promised that I could have black joggers with Velcro straps, instead of my daggy school shoes. Puh-lease.”
The mothering dilemma continues. I regret sometimes that I feel so compelled to fulfill the promises I make to my children.
You can guess which shoes we bought. Close to a hundred bucks on two pairs of school shoes later, we leave the shop with the kids proudly wearing their shiny new shoes. Me? I’m straggling behind in my peanut butter-smeared shirt with my scuffed old ballet flats, flicking my overgrown hair out of my eyes. As my fellow shoe-fancier friend said “What a rotten waste of good shoe money.”
Surely it’s just a bad phase. Surely it’s just a combination of it being winter, and deciding to grow my hair, and the tight financial climate. Surely one day I’ll get my mojo back. Won’t I?
so any final illusions of vanity were stripped away then. But I think it is nice to feel nice for ourselves - to feel healthy and alive. In a world where appearances play such a huge role it can be hard to be 'just a mum'. But I think winter definitely has something to do with it - winter is a time for hibernating and that often includes the mojo - mine is buried under my trakkie daks! You will definitely get your mojo back - probably as soon as the weather warms up when you get a touch of Vitamin D from the sun and you drag out last year's summer tops and shorts - it's like a whole new wardrobe. Bring on the Springtime and embrace the seasons of life. This too shall pass.
So I'm not complaining... and our calf muscles will thank us for all these years sans high heels!