This is definitely what you call a first world problem

I know that some of you are going to think that I'm crazy, but this has been bugging me.

I want to go someplace that requires me to dress up. Really, really dress up.

We used to have some fancy holiday events to attend for Colin's job. At one time there were some fairly formal events for the Bach Collegium. But since Colin's job left town there are no more parties or events, and the Collegium events are far more ordinary than they used to be.

I dress nicely for church, concerts, the theater, and any other chance I get, but I want to get REALLY dressed up. Long skirt, sparkly jewelry, cute little clutch bag, the whole bit.

Maybe it's because really dressed up usually means we're going out and doing something fun. It's possible that my real desire is to go out and have fun with my husband. (And preferably some fun friends, too.)

But I still want an opportunity to get really dressed up.

The message of clothes

I had the opportunity to do a lot of thinking about clothes today. I have lost some weight in the past year--to the point that my clothes are quite baggy--so I decided to go do some shopping, hoping to hit some clearance sales. Clothes were on my mind.

Since my shopping buddy got married and moved away last weekend, I was shopping alone, so I had lots of time to think. My first thought on the message of clothes came when I was wandering through Banana Republic, ungreeted and completely unbothered by the people working in the store--none of whom were familiar faces--while they assiduously greeted everyone else who came in and told them about the sale. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and completely understood why I was ignored. I looked schlumpy. My two-year-old, too-big shirt and too-big cropped pants made me look more like I belonged on the "People of Walmart" site than at BR.  I wandered around the store for about five minutes, unaccosted,  and then left without seeing anything that even tempted me to try it on.

Next stop was the Land's End store at Sears. Again, ungreeted. Same was true at every store that I went into except J.C. Penney, where every employee you pass must greet you on pain of death. At Aldo I thought I was truly invisible. I even held a shoe for about a minute while the two people working conversed with each other a couple of feet away, until I left, at which point one said, "Thanks for coming in!" Whaat?!

So all of this was fresh in my mind when I saw, first, the woman in the skintight translucent white jeggings, low-cut shirt & platform shoes dragging the toddler through the mall. (Her outfit didn't say "MOM.") Then I saw the two women in scrubs complaining about the styles at Macys being boring and having no-style. (Unlike their scrubs? Sorry, when you wear scrubs in public I think you're either lazy or germy.) Then, as I was driving to my next stop I saw the kids leaving one of our local high schools on the first day of school, and remembered how carefully my friends and I chose our clothes for the first day. You knew that you were making that first impression for the school year. I was somewhat depressed by the array of long, baggy athletic shorts with sports sandals and flip-flops on guys, tight low-cut tops and the infernal jeggings on girls, and a general air of unkempt, I-don't-give-a-rip emanating from the students. Most of what they were wearing wouldn't have been allowed by the dress code at my public school--which didn't allow the much-in-vogue preppy, knee-length, corduroy walking shorts with matching tights when I was in high school--but, aside from that, it was lounge and recreation wear, not clothing for any activity of importance.

My last stop was my favorite clothing store. I haven't been there often in the last eight months because my life has been crazy. But I knew that I  would find something there to complete my thus-far-frustrated retail therapy. I used to know everyone who worked there, but last fall the entire staff turned over and there were no familiar faces today. So, schlumpy me walked in in one of my few non-Chico's outfits. I was soundly ignored. Completely. It wasn't until I walked up to one of the women with my arms full of clothes to try on that anyone paid the slightest bit of attention to me. And she turned me over to the other person who was working. Oh, honey, your numbers for the day wish that you hadn't done that.

It really was interesting. Usually I dress for shopping. Today I didn't. I wore my comfy, too-big clothes and my Birkenstocks. (Which any observant salesperson would have noticed were new. And adorable. Seriously.) I know clothes send a message. But I really wonder, when I'm out and about, how many people understand or even think about what their clothes are saying. My clothes today said that I either didn't care to, didn't know how to, or couldn't afford to dress in a flattering manner. I recognized that. I kind of knew it when I left home, but it was also part of the reason I needed to shop.

So what's the conclusion? I don't know. I just had to write it all down.

One of those things

...that I really didn't need to know about.

My friend Polly mentioned Polyvore on Facebook last night.

Oh. Oh my. Oh me oh my. I have lost some time there today.

It is like scrapbooking with clothes. Mixing and matching, playing with colors and styles; it's like having the run of some awesome closet. If you loved dressing Barbies or paper dolls, it could be dangerous.


Just for fun by IndianaJane featuring Jessica Kagan Cushman jewelry

Attempted shopping, part three

Alternately titled, success.

Yes, I did find something to wear for Easter. I was going to head back to Von Maur and try on a scary-expensive dress and jacket, but decided first to try Burlington Coat Factory. I had never been in there, but a friend suggested it, so I went.

First, I was surprised at how nice it was. I was expecting the chaotic warehouse shopping experience, which I hate, but it was very well-organized and pleasant inside. The first dress I saw was $29.99. It was one of the two dresses that I had tried on at Von Maur. Same fabric. Same brand. The price at Von Maur was $69. Whoa!

I wasn't seeing anything, until I walked all the way past the clearance stuff to the edge of the department. I saw a couple of racks of ladies suits and two-piece dresses. Jackpot! I found a warm cream two piece dress that looks decent and cost a fifth of what I was willing to spend. I need to get some shoes, but that shouldn't be hard.

It also should look good with the hat that I fell in love with.

Attempted shopping

Bethany and I attempted to shop today between other commitments. I was looking for something to wear for Easter, a dress or a pretty skirt. Unfortunately, we had no luck. I didn't even find anything that I was interested enough in to look at the price tag!

The prints were ugly, the colors were garish and the fabrics were cheap.

Why, oh why, is it so hard to find pretty clothes?

Shopping success

Since I have shared frutrations, woes, and angst in the past, I thought I'd share some shopping success.

I have more clothes from Chico's in my closet than any woman should have from one store. But the thing is, they fit me. So I shop there. A lot. I was trying to spend less money so I spent lots of time trying on dozens of pieces of clothing at a number of stores. All I did managed to do was waste a couple of days and get really worn out and frustrated.

So Thursday I went to Chicos. I tried on seven things and bought five of them. I also bought two more tops like one that I tried on. I found a black jacket and pants that are very flattering and will be the core of my fall and winter wardrobe. We also hit a fantastic sale at Von Maur and I found the lightweight white cardigan I'd been searching for all summer.

I think I'm pretty much set for this year. I resisted the temptation to branch into browns, because my wardrobe is pretty good because I've built it on black, khaki, and white, with some color thrown in. Adding in browns would mean adding shoes, too, and I don't want to get into that. I would still like to find a dress. I have skirts, but I'd love a pretty dress for winter.

You can be sure that when I go look, I'll tell you about it.

Shopping angst

I have always enjoyed shopping, especially when I get to shop with Bethany, my mom, or my sister-in-law Kim. But more and more shopping feels like a chore. Yesterday Bethany and I went shopping with things we needed to buy and money with which to buy them, but we left nearly empty-handed.

We just didn't see much we liked. We saw the same colors in every store. We saw lots of cuts that would be only marginally flattering on a tall, thin, broad shouldered model, never mind on a normal person. You know that when Bethany has a hard time finding things that look cute on her there's a major problem!

I did find a really nice pair of classic trouser-cut black pants at Gap. I may look like I'm wearing a uniform this fall if I don't find any new tops to supplement my three white and one pink Banana Republic blouses! (But at least I have those!)

You don't look like a homeschool mom

Oh really?

The first time someone said this to me was in 1997. I was fairly new to homeschooling and this statement made me a bit nervous. I knew no homeschoolers face-to-face; all were internet acquaintances. We certainly didn't look like the cover of "The Teaching Home," which was probably what they meant, but I was fairly certain that not all homeschool families consisted of long-haired moms of many, many children in matching clothes. (Link to TTH is in no way an endorsement!)

That was over ten years ago. I could probably have paid for today's manicure if I had a dollar for every time I've been told that I don't look like a homeschooler. I used to laugh uncomfortably. Then for a few years I said thank you. Now I usually tell people that I really do look like lots of them.

But the stereotype remains.

It's a big family by today's standards - "just like stair steps," as the old folks say. Freshly scrubbed boys with neatly trimmed hair and girls with braids, in clean but unfashionable clothes follow mom through the store as she fills her no-frills shopping list.

Are there homeschool families who look like this? Sure. Some of them are my friends. But you also have girls in shorts and Aeropostale t-shirts, and my boys in Mambo, Land's End, and BR. Sometimes my boys have very neat short hair, and sometimes it looks like this:

Most of the homeschool moms I know don't own a denim jumper and are more likely to be in jeans or capris than anything else.

Some of them have opted out of materialistic society and some of us are still way too cozy with it. Some homschooled because they were looking for a Christian worldview; some were trying to avoid it. Some, like us, just wanted to have our kid not hate learning. Some are poor, some are rich, far more of us fall somewhere in the middle. Some homeschool moms even work outside the home. (Some of us are supposed to be working from home and are blogging instead.)

Some of our kids are super-smart and lazy as all get-out. Some are smart and disciplined. Some are average. Some are dumber then dirt. Seriously. Some of our children are well-behaved and some are flat-out rotten and have caused many gray hairs and sleepless nights.

So if you see that woman described in the article, chances are she's a homeschool mom, but I'll be over at Target in my capris and BR blouse with my mani and my Brighton sandals and NO kids tagging along, 'cause they're at home playing Halo, and I'm a homeschool mom, too. (Although my Brighton sandals are OLD, and if I wasn't a homeschool mom they'd be NEW.)

Addendum: Yes, I dress up and put on make up to go to Target. It's my entertainment.

An old friend

I was delighted to discover last night that April Cornell is still around. I didn't realize that after they closed the stored they were maintaining a catalog/internet business. They have some lovely things. Their prices have also moderated a bit since I last saw them. I may be ordering a dress.

Shopping frustrations

I'm trying to find a dress.

I don't need anything elaborate. It doesn't have to be especially cheap. I don't have strict requirements for color, style, etc.

I just want something that fits. I want a dress that is feminine and flattering, but not overly revealing. I have tried on several that were close. One almost worked. The neckline was too low, but I could have tacked a small piece of fabric into the vee. But the armholes were too large, too, so the sleeves were baggy.

I know that I should learn to sew. I'm working on it. But that doesn't get me a dress now.

Does anybody have a suggestion for a store or brand that is "curve friendly?" (But not plus-sized.)