“You look beautiful…” she said as the nine year old let her eyes trail from my black shiny pumps right up to my pulled back Pinterest braided bun, “… my mom never dresses like that.”
My own daughter was hardly interested in discussing my clothes. To her I’ve looked like this Monday to Friday for the eternity of her existence except for a few maternity leaves. She was happy simply because I had come to pick her up at school which meant she didn’t have to take the bus.
It was dance picture day and it takes me at least 45 minutes to put on her make-up and do her hair and since call time was at 5:10pm I had no choice but re-organize my entire afternoon to be right here right now to have my outfit critiqued by nine-year-olds.
“Does she always dress like that?” my daughter’s friend asked her.
“She has to. She works.” my daughter replied. It was matter of fact because it’s true, I do work.
The girls’ conversation turned to a school project and I think a boy (though they hushed their voices instinctively so I couldn’t quite be sure) as they packed up their school bags and switched their indoor shoes for their outdoor ones.
When she saw her mother come up the hallway my daughter’s friend rushed to her side “Look Mom! That’s my friend’s mom and she looks soooo beautiful. She dresses like that every. single. day.”
I smile and wave and let my eyes take in the head to toe Lulu Lemon ensemble. Just by looking at her you know she wears Lulu not just for comfort like I do on the weekends but because she actually goes to the gym. Probably does yoga too. Her hair is perfect, her nails are polished and to me, she’s more beautiful than any other mother at school pick-up.
I can only wonder what she’s thinking of me. Despite what her daughter has said I look tired, am squeezing myself into my favourite pencil skirt with a double-Spanx approach and if you look closely you will see a clear run in my nylons slowly but surely making it’s way down my leg.
And then she says… “you really do look beautiful. I wish I had an excuse to dress like that.”
But I can’t help but wonder if she knows that on some days I would give anything to be a stay-at-home mom. On almost every day I would give anything to ditch the high heels and the pencil skirts for Lulu Lemon yoga pants and sweaters with thumb holes.
But until that happens (if it ever happens) it’s pure working momma uniform all the way.