Don't Kick Me While I'm Down...Again!

I"m a girl.  Not an entirely girly girl--but I do enjoy a nice pair of shoes with a cute new outfit and accenting bag.  This is not something that fits easily into the food stamps budget but I think there are ways around that so long as I can stand the mortification.


I previously mentioned that I go through a stage after having a baby that makes me want to get rid of nearly all my clothes and start over.  With my first child this started the day I found out I could fit into my regular pants again and I decided to try on all my other clothes too.  After putting on a few shirts I realized that though I had lost my baby weight there is something about carrying a bowling ball around in your abdomen that makes your body shape different...in a bad way.  At the time, I still had shirts from high school in my closet and realized it was no longer cute for me to dress in teenage clothes.  Though I was and am still young, there comes a time when you have to begin to embrace the "women's department".  I am still struggling with this revelation.


I am entering this ferocious stage of postpartum where I have lost most of the baby weight but still don't feel pretty, don't feel myself, but definitely want to feel fantastic. 


 I started last week with pulling out my handy Making Faces makeup book...a must for every girls library.  I'm trying new looks each day and trying to figure out what looks best.  Its odd, but my face shape has changed after having kids and aging--I miss my chubbier cheeks now--never thought I'd say that!  


After playing with makeup each day I venture into my closet determined to find an outfit I want to wear more than my sweats.  I glance at all the juvenile/out of date clothing hanging in my closet and contemplate.  I have a conundrum.


I am wanting to find some clothes that fit me properly.  Something to make me feel nice, respectable, pretty.  Something that doesn't have baby spit up on it.  Something that I feel confident in and escape my frumpiness for a few moments.  I need to find items that are functional, cute, durable and affordable.  And I really don't want to go shopping with kids in tow.  Being the wife of a law student doesn't give me a lot of hope for this situation...so I'm going to make my own solutions...consignment here I come.


I decided to start the selling of my clothes at Plato's Closet.  They have a simple system in which you take your stuff in and they give you cash for the stuff they want.   It seemed like a good idea until I found out this would lead to my total embarrassment and yet another realization and resentment of our self induced broke financial situation.


After lugging my large bin of items to the counter they told me it would take a few minutes so I could browse around the store.  I found a few items that I thought might be flattering and entered the dressing room.  After the first two dresses made me look totally awful I was in a foul and self loathing mood.  This mood was further degenerated when the teenage girl employee came back to the dressing room to speak to her manager.  


Apparently the front counter was very cluttered and the employee seemed worried that the manager should know why.  She explained to the manager that several people, including a first time seller, had brought their items in at once and that was why they were crowded up front.  "I'm going through the new sellers bin," she said.  "And its taking forever because I pull things out and its like...this is crap, crap, crap, crap, Oh-this one is ok...and then just more crap.  Its taking a long time."


As soon as I overheard her say she was going through a first time sellers bin I knew she was talking about my stuff.  My husband told me I shouldn't care about what some stupid teenage girl said and it was totally unprofessional for her to speak that way in the dressing room.  He's right...but I still had to fight back the tears.


It wasn't that she was wrong.  A lot of my stuff is kind of crappy.  I've been a stickler about price for years-out of necessity.  This means that all my stuff has come from a clearance rack and is not always the cutest.  Saving for a rainy day, or law school, or retirement is more important to me than having nice clothes.  I thought I looked decent...but I realize now that I just looked "not naked." 


I wish I could just say,"Hey honey, I need some new clothes.  How about we get a babysitter and go to the mall this weekend and get a few things?"     I can't.  We don't have the time nor the money.  I am ok with us being broke and busy most of the time.  But when a complete stranger, especially a silly teenage stranger, calls your stuff crap it doesn't make you feel good.  


So do me a favor.  Don't judge the girl who doesn't have it all together.  Don't judge the girl who is lugging her screaming 3 year old through the grocery store and then pays with a food stamps card.  I'm not trash...I'm a mom.  I think I  might even be a good mom.  Don't judge the girl who brings in crappy clothes for consignment...or at least keep your mouth shut.  I don't like presenting my outdated clothes to you any more than you like going through them.  


Someday my kids will be teenagers.  I pray by then we will be standing on solid financial feet and I will teach them to not judge the poor young mom who is making an attempt at being fashionable...and if I can't teach them that--I will at least teach them to keep their mouths shut!