A Mother’s Guide: Fashion Faux Pas

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Fashion, fashion, fashion. I love fashion and everything to do with it. Clothing, shoes, makeup, bags; give me the whole lot!

Believe it or not, I’ve actually become more fashionable since I’ve had Liam. I credit that not only to my awareness of the current fashion trends, but working in fab retail stores. I’ve been surrounded by nothing but inspo for the next great outfit or even OOTD. Andddd my addiction to online shopping…. well, that’s still there.

However, Liam is not too impressed with my new found (or reinforced, rather) love for all things fashion and beauty. As I have a relatively understated every day look, any modifications simply confuse him, poor thing. As Liam has well entered into the world of toddlerhood and seeks to dismantle any look that strays from my everyday “mum” garb, I thought I’d share my own fashion faux pas, from mother to mother.

You’re welcome.

1. Strapless…. anything

Strapless bras, strapless bikinis, sexy strapless dresses. If it has the word ‘strapless’ in its description, it is not your friend, mama. I have been exposed one to many times at the beach by Liam deciding to ignore the purpose of his floaty and assigning that purpose to my strapless bathing suit top, instead. Even when I’m wearing those strapless tube top thingies to layer under my clothing, it somehow requires so much more adjustment when I’m running around being a mum. Sure, they’re cute. Flashing everyone at the supermarket because you just had to wear that super easy strapless top while running errands with your tot?

Not so much.

2. Makeup

I think almost 80% of the people I follow on Instagram are in some way affiliated to makeup whether it be bloggers or product pages. My makeup corner on my master bathroom sink also says a lot. I love makeup. With a toddler, however, I’ve had to manage my makeup-wearing days to only when I’m not with him. First order of business when I get home from work is to remove every trace of makeup from my face so my face is Liam-worthy.

I’ve mentioned in past entries how affectionate Liam has always been and as he gets older he shows no signs of stopping any time soon. The kid is a straight up Casanova. And I love it, I really do. What I don’t love? Liam smearing the 8-hour old Revlon off my face in a sweet caress and subsequently planting his hand on every surface he can find. Furthermore, I live on an island. Yes, it’s a hot one. Makeup + hot sweltering sun= sweaty makeup. Makeup + hot sweltering sun + getting face-caressed by a clammy-handed toddler= sweaty makeup mask and finger-paint.

I’m not that great at maths, but that equation is spot on.

And that finger-paint usually ends up on my clothes or someone else’s. But usually mine.

Save yourselves.

3. Red Lipstick

If you’re just a hot fox mama who wears red lipstick everyday, and your kids actually don’t recognise you without it, you can skip past this.

For me, a nude lip is my best friend. I’ve spent most of my makeup-wearing years trying to find the perfect nude lip. So, as you can imagine, any lip colour that departs from that is a step outside the norm for me. Well, it’s a step outside the norm for Liam, too. It was actually hilarious to discover. I come down the stairs one day dressed for work and have opted on a red Ruby Woo lip instead of my usual nude gloss or lip paint. I go to give Liam a hug good-bye and he is looking at me with both a sense of wonderment and confusion. From the outside looking in, it may have appeared his unwavering gaze was one of love, but, oh no, it was an awkward, “WTF is that on your face and why is it there?” look. I couldn’t help but laugh; he even tried to touch it. Had it not been for my ninja-like reflexes, my red lipstick would’ve been smeared all over my face. And his.

For me, red lipstick is in the same boat as makeup; Liam’s impromptu and somewhat sneak-attack displays of affection from grabbing my face and pressing his lips (or nose), onto mine or hastily pointing at the parts of my face as he names them just does not allow for a safe red-lipstick wearing experience.

4. Linen…

… or anything that requires ironing in general.

In my post Love is… I speak on the sheer uselessness of wearing anything which requires ironing when out on the town with your tot. It is scientifically proven that women move around ten times more on a regular day outing when their child is around. Well, maybe not scientifically, but it sure is mother-proven. Between lifting and putting down and lifting repeatedly, to carrying baby on your hip there really is no chance of freshly ironed clothes remaining crisp and presentable.

Cotton jersey is your friend.

5. White

This could easily have been numbers 1,2,3,4 and 5 and this would’ve still been a very enlightening entry. I can count the number of white items I own in my wardrobe; and although I’d love to own more; as 95% of my time is spent with Liam, it’s just not practical. Even white items in my pajama inventory look like I wore them in a food fight. They just don’t stand a chance. White clothes, makeup and red lips? Ha! Furthermore, I, myself, am a klutz. Literally, I can not wear white without getting it dirty. I once wore a pair of white jeans to work and somehow got pen mark on it without even going near a pen. There really is no hope.

With a baby, you just don’t know what is going to happen to plans of your white lasting the whole day. You can eat the cleanest, most mess-free meal at lunch, sit in the cleanest of chairs and maintain clean hands. But you know what?

Diapers leak, and a potty trained child is an unpredictable species.

A baby’s drool is not like regular saliva; I always say this, and is often laced with remnants of their breakfast. It kinda just sticks on you.

Tots have a habit of wanting to walk and suddenly not wanting to walk; the level of anxiety I feel when I’m wearing white and Liam wants me to pick him up after he’s walked on every surface of town…

If you’re brave enough to wear white and you don’t walk with a dispenser of baby wipes attached to your hip, you are playing with fire, my friend.

By no means am I saying once you become a mother you should remain bare-faced and dress in a plastic bag. I often ignore the possible outcomes and wear a combination of all these things with tot in tow.

Being a mother does require a lot of sacrifice. But being fashionable and fabulous doesn’t have to be one of them.

Wear the milk stain with pride, mama.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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