I admit it. I'm frumpy. I've never been a stylista. Fashion or following the trends have never been my thing. I have always been a jean and tshirt girl. I always will be. I do not have the shoe fetish that many women have. My wedding shoes? A pair of white Converse Chuck Taylors. I'm okay with that.
However, lately I've decided maybe I've taken my casual look a bit too far and have become just plain frumpy. At one time I was fortunate enough to not have to wear makeup and get away with it, but at the age of 33 and two babies later, my skin is, well, not what it once was. I find myself browsing the anti-aging products at the supermarket. It is time. The crows feet and laugh lines are beginning to show, plus the discoloration that accompanied the pregnancies are not leaving without a fight.
Somewhere along the way I convinced myself being a mother and wife meant it was okay, if not expected, for me to just turn into a blob. Sure, dress up on Sundays but a Thursday? Why?
So, here in the middle of the year, I am making a resolution. Frump be gone! I'm not saying I'm going to turn into Carrie Bradshaw, but no more lounge wear 24/7! And the pony tail that seems to have been surgically attached to the back of my head? It can make a guest appearance once or twice a week.
Call me crazy, but I have a feeling the hubby would not mind one bit if I took more of an interest in my appearance. Sure, he loves me anyway, but why not at least look presentable?
I knew how bad it had gotten when I got up this morning, brushed my hair, applied light makeup (foundation, blush and natural eye shadow) and dressed in a skirt and top and both my hubby and daughter asked me where I was going. Helana thought I must be going to the doctor (why the doc I don't know).
So here's to a new me! Now if I could only get motivated to lose some weight....