Coming Into My Own

I went to the mall tonight.

My son is ready for a big boy bed and thankfully the internet gives me the ability to buy, buy, buy without having to leave the house.

However... to get free shipping I had to pick it up in the store.  Fine. Whatever. You suck.

I figured while I was at the mall, without my husband, without my children, all by my frickin' self, I'd shop a bit.

It's been a while since I've shopped for myself with any time, thought or purpose.

Normally if I need something I just run out to Kohl's while I'm at the grocery store or up to the outlets to look for the best deals.

I'm too cheap to pay retail for anything.

I realized something tonight as I wound my way through the stores, racks and people.  I don't like to shop.  I don't like current styles. I don't want to try on clothes. I hate the way my body looks right now.  I have NO fashion sense, at all.

I always thought that when I was older and had a bit of money I'd come into my own in terms of fashion.  That once we were established and could afford nicer stuff, I'd buy expensive well cut clothing and I'd look amazing.

My makeup would be from the department store counter and not the drug store crap. 

My shoes, belts and purses would be boutique brands and I would be able to pull together the looks I always imagined I could pull off if only I had the money.

I realized something tonight.  It's never going to happen.  I'm never going to be that pulled together 30 something that looks like I know what the fuck I'm doing.

My clothes and shoes are probably always going to look a little worn, tattered or cheap. 

My haircut isn't going to blow anyone away and I wear drug store makeup if I wear any makeup at all.

My handbags are nice, and name brands - but I buy them at Marshalls or Ross.  No way in hell would I spend $450 on a purse.  Maybe $100.  Maybe.

I wonder if some of this is my husbands influence.  He's a bit frugal.  Don't get me wrong, he's not cheap for the most part.

I wanted to buy myself a new Digital SLR camera, researched them, told him what I wanted and then spent $1200 on it.

But I can't see him being okay with me going out for facials, pedicures or wax hand dips every week.  Hell, he doesn't think it's okay to buy a soda at Wawa when we have soda in the fridge at home.

I can't see him being okay with me racking up credit card debt so I can look good.  I'm sure he'd love it if I looked dazzling all the time.  As long as it didn't come with a bill at the end.

I need to lose weight.  I know it.  I'm 30 pounds over my ideal, 15 pounds over what would be acceptable.

I have a gym membership.  Ask me how many times I've gone this summer.  Go ahead, ask.

Three times. 

I have a jogging stroller.  Ask me how many times I've actually used it to jog.  Once.

I have to get my shit together.  Maybe if I lose the weight, it won't matter to me so much that I look like a stay at home mom in a blue collar household.  Maybe.