|Pants: Loft. (similar here and here.) Chambray top: Old Navy. (just got this one and it's a new favorite). Shoes: Ruche. Bag: Michael Kors. (similar here.)|
The hardest part about getting dressed lately isn't that I need to work around whipping out my bosoms every couple hours to feed a baby, or the fact that most everything I wear will end up with spit-up on it, it's not even the extra pounds, (although there are admittedly some of those) it's that everything is sort of distributed unevenly. The weight's hanging out in all the wrong places. My normal (read: non-post-partum) body is a decidedly boy shaped, flat-chested, curve-less affair. I'm comfortable with those imperfections. I spent years figuring out how to dress that around that non-existent chest, the wide rib cage, those short legs, and then my soft post-partum mid-section has to throw a curve ball at me; suddenly I'm a middle figure. And that's an imperfection I'm not as comfortable dressing.
It's times like these that I thank my lucky stars (ie: my mother) that I learned to alter clothes all those years ago. Take these pants, for instance. I had to size up to accommodate my larger than normal stomach, but that also meant that the legs were a baggy saggy mess. (Also, they were too long, but the fact that every pair of pants I own have to be hemmed is kind of old news). Anyways, some trimming through the sides and a quick hem job and voila.
Speaking of these pants: the main objective I had in wearing them was to not pair them with a black top. I find myself sometimes in a rut when I'm trying to style a pair of bottoms with two different colors, none of them being white, and at first all I could think of to wear with this was every black blouse in my closet. And then the hangers parted, the closet opened up and I remembered my chambray shirt.
This leads me to my next point, which is that every woman should have a chambray shirt. Total closet staple.
By the way,
Today is Mr.'s 32nd birthday.
Having your birthday on a Wednesday is like a cruel trick of fate, but we're going to play hooky since the littles have a half day at school today, and then we're going to party it up tonight with a little tree trimming and lots of sugar cookies anyway. You know, you can eat as many sweets as you want on your birthday and it doesn't count, the calories just disappear into oblivion...
I'm surprised you didn't know that.
Regardless, me and the littles are just super glad that Mr. was born.
He's kind of a big deal around here.