Favorite --------> Most Hated!

D was a hard kid to buy clothes for. Mal is a hard kid to buy clothes for.

They both have sensory issues -- no bands, tags, or anything very fitted -- and have had STRONG opinions about what they want to wear from a very young age. 

I was so sad three summers ago when Mal said he wasn't going to wear tank tops anymore. I tried calling them "muscle shirts," but he wasn't buying it. He also swore off of v-neck Ts about the same time.  He will not wear denim of any shape, form, or fashion. And anything shorter than basketball shorts is "too small" for him, regardless of fit.

D was also a fan of the "long short." It was hard find them shorts that fit well, were the right length, and were comfortable enough to pass muster.

In mid-2011, I found what I thought was the answer to everything for D! At a Goodwill in Sherman, TX, they had a pair of corduroy shorts in both blue and green! D tried one of them on, they fit, and it was a go! I looked back on the rack and -- gasp! -- they also had orange, brown, and pink! We bought FIVE pair of identical shorts that I knew D would wear! YAY!

It was so easy; D wore a different pair of those shorts every day. 

Every. Day.

Every day until they started wearing out.. TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER. 

I had loved them and been so happy to have found them, but by the end of those two years, I hated them with a passion.

 

Now, I did learn something from that ordeal, though, and I typically order Mal the same pair of shorts or "fancy" joggers (that hopefully don't look like sweatpants) every season. He can usually wear them for two seasons before he outgrows them, but he's getting to be the age D was when their growth took a break for a couple of years.

But it's okay, because I already have an article of clothing that I bought Mal last year and ADORED that I literally never want to see again because it's almost all he wears.

 

This is a sentimental one for me, because it's the only wearable souvenir we got on our trip to California: a T-shirt from the awesome Museum of Making Music in Carlsbad. Maybe I just notice it because it's such a bright color. But he LOVES it and puts it on the minute it's gone through the washing machine.

Objectively, all of these articles of clothing are fine, cute even! 

I wonder what I wear over and over again that ticks off the people around me. I think I'll ask... I'll report back later!

Second Chances on Used Clothes

I decided to give Poshmark another chance. This time, I needed jeans. I mean needed. One of our stupid cats (the stupidest) had managed to snag a hole in my old jeans, which means it's just a matter of time until an unsightly run would start and... oh, what? I could just darn the hole? No. Because these were actually Pajama Jeans, and once they're compromised, it's all over.

Anyhoo. Jeans.

I had a strategy this time: I'd sort by cheapest first. Doing this, I purchased 2 pair of jeans at about $7 each, plus the $7ish shipping; so they were each around $15. That didn't seem too awful for a pair of gently used jeans that I kept from going into a landfill. Also, they weren't jeggings. They were jeans. I mean, they are jeans. I bought them in the past, but they still exist. Forgive my grammar.

Cut to today. Nope. Cut back to when the jeans arrived in the mail.

I took them out of the packaging to make sure I'd gotten what I ordered, and that they were in good shape. They were, so I put them in the closet. I kind of held them up to me, but they looked kind of small. They were in the size I think I wear, but Pajama Jeans only come in letter sizes and I don't trust the Woman Within sizes, as most of their stuff is super flowy and I'm on the small size of their "double-sized" sizes. That was a lot of the use of the word "size," but our lawn guy is weed-whacking and the washing machine is running and I can barely think, much less write.

SO.

I think I was nervous. What if I don't wear the size I think I wear? What if I've gained so much weight, I've moved up in sizes? That's not actually a problem (though it's likely something I should have sussed out before I purchased new trousers), but would be a thing I'd have to process. I've worn a size up before. I've worn a couple of sizes up.

And I left the jeans in the closet for a good week.

Last night, Mal and I went up to visit my parents and to spend the night. James is working from home right now (all of his company is #covid19) and started some training today, so I'm trying to keep Mal occupied for the next few days. We happened to get home right as James was finishing up a lab this evening.

When packing our overnight stuff, I decided to take one pair of those new jeans. Without trying them on. I figured that if they didn't fit... I'd just feel stupid and wear what I'd worn down there.

Guess what? They fit fine. They looked cute and were comfortable. And now it's too hot to wear jeans anymore. Hope they fit next season!

Fashion-no-sta

There is a 23-year-old young woman I follow on YouTube and I'm not entirely sure why since I'm certainly not her intended audience, and most of her videos are about fashion in some way... But I think I ended up on her channel because she'd done something I think is fun, which is that she took $100 into ten different stores in a mall to see what she could buy with the same amount from, say, Forever 21 (a lot) to Kate Spade (nothing). Then I saw one where she tried on a similarly-styled pair of size 12 jeans at a bunch of different stores, and noted how much the actual sizes varied. Ger effervescent personality is just uplifting, plus she employs a bunch of her high school friends, so that's awesome and fun. Anyway, I watch a lot of her videos while I'm doing other things, like paying bills or making dinner.

I realize, though, that she has a seemingly innate sense of fashion. Like she talks about using this belt with this outfit because the belt provides texture as a contrast to the rest of it. These are things I've never even considered. I mostly feel like if I like an article of clothing and it's comfortable, I'll wear it. Because of this, there are many outfits I've only retired after having seen pictures of myself and realizing that somehow what I think I look like based on my mirror and how the outfit actually wears are vastly divergent and this is not a look I want to continue.

The video I watched yesterday was one where she recreated her "worst" outfits from adolescence. None of them was particularly awful, though her friends and mom could tell exactly what time frame she was referencing with her clothes. Part of this is because she was born in the mid-90s so her adolescence wasn't so long ago. But part of it is that she dressed stylishly (or her interpretation of stylishly) for the day, and it was easily identifiable to her peers.

She asked the question: What fashion decisions from high school do you think are your worst? Well, I don't think I made ANY "fashion" decisions, per se, when I was... um, ever, actually. Since I always felt ridiculously large (false) as a youngster, I just wanted to look not huge and didn't try to replicate anyone's "looks," except maybe Bill Cosby's sweaters. And I hate that I still think "Cosby sweater" when I see one, because I LOVE THEM STILL. John Boyega wore one on the cover of People Magazine recently, and I think we should call them Boyega sweaters now. (I know, he's not incredibly tactful at times. Grace on that one. I get it.)

Anyhoo, maybe it's because my family didn't have a lot of money, so we were pretty utilitarian about clothes? Or maybe it was because, again, the plus size clothes movement just had not gotten started in earnest so I didn't have a lot of choices. You can definitely look at old pictures and say, "80s!" but that was because... that's what they sold in stores at that time. And I was definitely a "buy the first thing that fits" gal, ask my mom, rather than a "let's shop all day until I create the perfect outfit for me."

I will say that the one thing I think we ALL wonder about the late 80s and early 90s is: bangs. You didn't have to have money to have big bangs. White Rain cost $.94 a bottle, and so even when you went through ONE BOTTLE A WEEK, it wasn't super expensive. Why did we do this? Who can say.

But you know what hair trend I think we'll look back on later and wonder, "Why?" The partial bun top knot. I do it, and I think it's cute as heck.

This is (k)not nearly as smack-dab on top of the head as I sometimes wear it. This young lady to whom I refer on YouTube also does this, and often accents it with what looks like a quarter-size bandana. And I love it! But I also feel like it's weird, and in 20 years, our kids and maybe grandkids will look at the pictures and wonder, "Why did we do this?" and "Why did you do that?" What is it about having a tiny cinnamon roll on your noggin that seemed like a viable look to you?

Then again, if I have my way, the concept of fashion and looking "nice" or "hip" or "hot" or whatever will have been totally demolished by then, and everyone can wear whatever they want and not feel self-conscious nor will anyone judge anyone else's choices with what they do with their bodies, and all the wars will end, and everyone will just bake brownies to share with their neighbors. If that happens, just remember that we vision-casted it first right here.

Nowadays, even with my ability to choose clothes that are more plentiful and varied, I don't really feel like I have a "style." I just get things I think are cute and that I won't have to fuss with, and that's it.

On a related note, I've been going to a lot of open houses lately. I enjoy keeping up with what real estate in our neighborhood is doing, and any time a house goes up then on the market, if it's open, we go tour it. What seems to be the deal right now is sealed concrete flooring (not stained; just the normal grey concrete color), black or slate cabinets, and light fixtures that look like recycled bottles, even if they aren't. The upper floors are mostly dark wood or laminate, with wet areas having black and white or something in-between tile, either mosaic or subway.

Clearly, this kind of blank slate is the deal and lots of people demand it. I understand minimalism but also think the interiors feel kind of cold, even when they're staged with furniture. Maybe earth-toned neutrals are just as blah, but at least they feel warmer to me. And I'm sorry, but I love carpet. I know it's bad for my allergies and you just cannot keep it clean. I know the cats are bound and determined to destroy it. I LOVE cool area rugs, too... but it's cheaper to carpet a room than to buy one or two good-sized nice area rugs, and then you have to pull them up and vacuum under the edges or they're pretty gross, as well.

So once again, I have zero sense of any particular style, but I know what I like. Our house is packed with garbage, basically. Gloriously colorful garbage that we got handed down or bought second-hand. There is nary a headboard in the building. I'm a cheapskate and the only "furniture" in which I have invested has been the outdoor structures we have (playscape, storage shed, pigeon loft, and solar panels). I do like the aesthetics of our kitchen chairs, but they're intentionally mismatched and inexpensive, and when one breaks, I can replace it without much concern.

Oh, and I bought a fake plant at IKEA yesterday to fill a "wtf" niche beside our fireplace in the living room. It was twice the price of a real plant, but with the cats, our odds seemed better with this thing. I know enough to know that fake plants are widely panned by people who have taste, but... *shrug*.

I know what I like, and I can look at a professionally-designed interior and think, "That looks really nice," but I don't know the names or origins of styles, and I don't think I'd be able to (or want to?) recreate them on my own.

Maybe that's just a thing: not having a sense of style and kind of just being fine with whatever. Like some people can camp and just not be bothered by the elements. Or some people can eat anything, even if it's cold food that's supposed to be hot or really too-old snack cakes (looking at James). I recognize when people look put together, and think it'd probably be cool to look so nice, but also... I love Crocs (way pre-VSCO, so I think we should credit ME and my tenacious fandom with forcing them into pop culture). And I love buying 3 shirts for $25. Or mattresses for $300. So maybe being fashionable just isn't in my future.

Case Clothesed!

Recently, someone posted a meme with different text, but with this picture... I'm linking to it, because I don't want to download it an post it here. There are several memes, some quite unkind. But the one my friend posted wasn't tacky. Still, it was paired with the picture.

What got to me wasn't the person who shared the picture, but the person who took the picture in the first place. It actually hurt me for this lady. It appears to be in a classroom of some type. Why not tap her on the shoulder and say, "Hey, I'm not trying to be nosey but notice that your bra is not very securely attached. Is that okay, or do you want me to help you get it?" If you're the kind of person who's thinking, "Oh, I could never say something like that!" then I hope you're also the kind of person who couldn't imagine pulling out a phone and taking a snap of someone else's wardrobe potential malfunction.

This whole thought process reminded me that I used to spend hours on People of Walmart, giggling at the silliness. It's been years and years, and what this picture made me realize is that maybe, in my transition to gentle parenting, I've just become more gentle toward humanity in general. I've never liked to see people publicly disappointed or embarrassed, and now it's grown to include being unwilling sources of humor, I suppose.

But here's an issue I also have with all of that, as well as a well-intentioned article a friend posted today, which devolved in the comments section to what is "ladylike" to wear in public (of the "people used to know how to dress and now it's all gone to pot!" ilk): THIS IS 2017. PEOPLE SHOULD BE FREE TO WEAR WHATEVER THEY WANT TO WEAR.

People should be able to wear whatever comfortable, uncomfortably stylish, ugly, impractically fancy, fleecy, ripped lacey, leggings-as-pantsy, belly-baring, body-swallowing, traditional, formerly-gender-inappropriate thing that they want to wear.

Want to wear your formal wedding dress to buy groceries? Fun! Want to walk over to get a Slushie without changing from your night gown? Go for it! Taking your kid to the park but you already had on a broomstick skirt? Just be careful! Halfway through, realize it's too hot and take off your top so you're wearing only a sports bra? Super!

If YOU feel like it was "better" when people dressed up to run to town, dress up to run to town! Feel great about yourself! (And PLEASE teach me how to make pin curls you can sleep on.) At the same time, know that that gives you zero right to look down on anyone else, whatever they might have used to cover up their bodies. No right to feel "better." No right to assume you care more or are more gracious or respectful. It's your preference, and it's great, so embrace it. But if MY preference is not to spend an inordinate amount of time fixing up for an errand, that doesn't say a thing about my character. I just save my "fix up" time for my husband, or for when I know there will be pictures taken. Because I have other stuff to do. Stuff that I think is important, but you might not care about at all. And I promise not to look down on you because you don't have the same priorities and preferences.

I do not understand why anyone else thinks it's their business to asses the appropriateness of someone's clothes for their body type, situation, or temperature. Much less to say something out loud. Or take pictures.

I spent a lot of my young life feeling ashamed of my clothes. We couldn't afford Guess! back in the day when EVERYTHING was Guess! I had people say things to me like, "Boy, you don't like that shirt, do you? I can tell because you never wear it" about the one sort of nice, stylish Coke shirt I had in junior high, and, yeah, that I wore once a week because I felt awesome in it. I had someone say, "We were supposed to wear our BEST outfit tonight!" the last night of camp, after I'd showed up in the nicest thing that I'd brought, that I'd saved all week for the talent show. I've been keenly aware of being the only person in the room not wearing jewelry. Or the only one in sandals without a pedicure, or at least painted toenails. I've felt "poorer" or "less than" in my discount store jeans and Goodwill tops.

But now that I'm older and more mature, you know what? I realize now that poverty isn't as huge a factor in my wardrobe as I might have been tempted to assume in the past. Because, financially, I'm more stable now than I've ever been (thanks, honey!), and you know what? I'm a CHEAPSKATE about clothes! I buy what I like now, but not until it's on sale. And I don't wear jewelry because I'm allergic to most metals, including silver, and I just don't care enough to seek out other stuff. So when I go out, I'm wearing what I want, and I no longer feel self conscious. I feel comfortable. And if you're judging me, then... well, I feel sorry for you. Seriously, get something better to do. Because your opinion means nothing to me, so you're just wasting your energy.

The Internet of Things (not *that* one)

I'm going to share with you some excerpts from long-ago blog posts. The place: Spokane, Washington. More specifically, D's dad's friends' basement, where we'd been staying for a couple of months while looking for gainful employment after a very stressful separation from Girls and Boys Town of Nevada.

September 22, 2002:
"It's 51 degrees outside and I'm wearing shorts and sandals! Why? Because everything I own that is even remotely warm is behind boxes and boxes and taped securely so as not to get dusty. I don't even know where my socks are (or underwear, which, fortunately, I don't really need more of at this point) or the shoes I'd wear with long pants or skirts, if I had any of them... Thursday I'm going to storage to take out every stinking one of the wardrobe boxes. I hate to clutter up our room, but it's going to be cold soon and I'm not planning to risk exposure just to save a few square feet. But, mark my words, three weeks from now I'll be complaining about how cramped our room is because of all the boxes."

D and me in the gondola over the Spokane River. Even early September, I'm wearing one of Ken's shirts because I'm SICK of the week's worth of tops I'd packed, as we ended up staying for three months.

October 11, 2002:
"Woo hoo! Motherlode of britches today. :) Amy's shipment of slacks (for which I grossly underpaid her to ship) arrived today. Nine pair of pants including jeans (blue, black, light blue, white, rainbow-colored... okay, maybe not), slacks, a dress, a sweater and shorts that won't see the light of day until next year are now lying across my bed, just so I can look at them. I need never wear the same pair of pants again! (Assuming I die toward the beginning of the week after next.) Anyhoo... thanks, Amy!"

Pretty cool story, right, bro?

Well, here's something you need to know about Amy: At the time, she lived in NYC, and we had never met. We had become acquainted online, more specifically in a Yahoo group dedicated to Rockapella. We had been chatting for more than two years, and when she read in my "online journal" (the word "blog" wasn't very widely used yet) that I needed some warmer duds, and since she had just lost weight and "ingrown" stuff that was just my size... She offered what she had! It was awesome!

Okay, so let's fast-forward to the present day, or just a little before; let's say to some time the week before last, maybe? Amy doesn't live in NYC, anymore, but is still over there on that coast. We have still not met in person. I was going to say, "I don't even know if that group still exists," but, dang it... If you click here and you used to be an active part of that group, you'll see a lot of familiar screen names!

Anyhoo, as fortune would have it, Amy has once again lost enough weight not to be able to fit into her (smaller than that time) pants! And guess what? SHE SENT THEM TO ME AGAIN! That's right, MORE PANTS. I did pay fair shipping this time, so that's better. But, goodness, it was a crapload of slacks, jeggings, two dresses (the colorful one is my fave!), a couple of athletic pants, some crops, etc. So. Excite.

See, you might not have noticed this, but I don't have an outside-of-the-house job. I haven't had an excuse to buy nice pants in years, and so even though my grey slacks had all three fasteners that had broken (yes, beyond repair), I had just permanently secured the waistband with a safety pin, because... why should I waste money on slacks when I can wear fleece shorts 24/7, really? Same with my black slacks, on which the hem had come out (YES, BEYOND my desire to REPAIR), but they were kind of short to begin with, so I just left the unfinished bottom the way that it was? (Oh, and have I mentioned that Amy is even taller than I am, and so the pants are all tall, and so they actually, you know, cover my ankles if they're supposed to?!) I have other pants with stories I could share, but it just makes me look bad and you can rest assured that those pants have gone to a much better (or worse) place now.

So, first, thanks again, Amy! You're still awesome, and yay pants!

If someone ever tries to tell you that "internet-only" relationships don't qualify as real relationships, then you can testify by singing them this little diddy...

Hanna Andersson @ the Domain Grand Opening!

This weekend, Hanna Andersson is opening at The Domain.They're having specials all weekend, like buy one/get one free pajamas and 30% off of everything else. And Saturday and Sunday, they're giving out $20 gift cards to the first 100 customers. Today, though, they were giving away a free pair of long johns to the first 500 customers, and I wanted to jump on that (and the pjs!).

So I got to The Domain (about 400,000,000 miles from where I live, and thank goodness James watched Mal, because he would not have tolerated this at all) a bit after 9:30, parked, and was able to find the store easily, thanks to Waze. Everyone in line around me said that their GPS didn't do that, and they were super jealous of how cool and functional I am. Oh, speaking of the line...

Is that Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous?!

I was about the 50th adult person in line, so, yay! Apparently other stuff was opening at The Domain today, too, including Nordstrom. THEIR line was crazars compared to this one. The mall had some special stuff going on, I guess, like face painting and balloons. I didn't see any of that because I knew where to park close in (thanks to Waze!) and didn't have to walk half way across the complex like my new friends did.

But one cool thing I got to see was foam airplanes.

Say what?

This. There was a machine (according to the grandma behind me, who would not lie about this sort of thing) that was pumping out these soap bubble airplanes, that would then climb and spiral and soar until, I guess, they just dissolved.

Do you see them all? I want one of these things! I probably won't get one, but you know what I did get? FREE LONG JOHNS!

90 cm long johns! James showed this picture to Mal while I was out, but Mal was playing coy by not acting interested.

They started letting people in about 10 'till, and they didn't allow it to be a total free-for-all, so only a few dozen people got in at once. Still, I was in the door around 10:20 or so. 

Hanna Andersson has such cute clothes, but I'm way too cheap to shop there for full price. Still, it was tempting to grab one of everything and just go for it. Girls clothes, too. I think my very progressive son would like a Grinch tutu for when he's feeling festive and pretty and just a little bit sassy.

After perusing the store (and getting very gracious help from one of the employees manning the room), I headed back outside to... wait in line. Yes, to check out.

This line actually moved much, MUCH more slowly than the line to get in (which kept growing, as you can see the people standing on the opposite side of the doorway, waiting to enter the store for the first time). The lady in front of me had a long-suffering baby. The lady in front of her had an increasingly fussy 2-ish-year-old in the backpack and she eventually bailed. The lady in front of HER was my grandma friend from the pre-entry, and she had to take off because they were going with their daughter's family to ride Thomas the Train in Burnet and there was no way she was going to get checked out in time.

I was probably in this line for a good 45 minutes, texting my husband "thank you thank you thank you!" a time or two. As I approached the doorway, I saw a mom coming out with her two kids, and she was thanking THEM for being so great and patient, saying, "We just have to wait in one more line, then we can go do the face painting and get cookies and do whatever you guys want, because I appreciate you so much!" I didn't say anything, but she was making it sound like they were almost done, and they were not. Still, good on her for a) having such chill kids, and 2) recognizing that she had it good.

There were obviously lots of moms with kids there, some tolerating the heat (only in front of the store; it was a nice morning, but we were in direct sun with reflective windows, so it was roasting) and boredom better than others. I would have left at this point had I had my 2-year-old with me. Free PJs, yay! But that would have been enough for him (and me, with him). However, once I stepped inside the door (I could see the registers!), a mom came in with FOUR KIDS in tow. The oldest was maybe 5, and the youngest barely born. Brave lady.

At some point, someone decided it'd be smart to go ahead and have us take our clothes off of the hangers instead of waiting for the cashiers to do it. Genius!

While I was waiting in the line, I saw the perfect little gloves and hat for Mal, so glad I had a while to stand there and look around.

OMG, I'm almost there!!

I hadn't paid too much attention to what I was buying, trying to get a minimum because Mal doesn't need a lot, but also trying to take advantage of really good sales. I was momentarily shocked when the cashier told me the total, but when I got home, I added up the regular retail for all of it, and I had saved just over $200!

So, what'd I get?

First the PJs. *squee!*

I didn't get him a tutu, but I did get him Wonder Woman pjs. If it makes you feel better, they were in the boys' section.

I also picked up a couple of pair of sweats because they are comfortable but look nice enough to pass for slacks, and a shirt that had a Space Shuttle on it, because Space Shuttle (I think that makes 2 or 3 he'll have this winter; does the SS count as retro yet?).

Finally, my favorite: The outerwear. I liked several of their coats, but in Austin, it rarely gets "coat cold." So I just got him a fleece-lined hoodie. Last year, his monster zip-up was adorable, and I'm glad he gets to enjoy another one!

It's a Sasquatch! And look at those gloves!

So that was my adventure for the day.

Or so I thought until I got home and then most of my family went out for lunch, then the transmission in my van started working only intermittently on the way home.

We've spent the rest of the day focusing on sales of a different kind: Auto sales. Good times.

Review: Pajama Jeans

No! I haven't given up. Stay with me for a minute, okay?

I've never understood why jeans are considered such awesome casual wear. I get that they're tough, so I can see them as work pants. But, dang, I don't think they're comfortable. I prefer slacks. No-iron slacks, of course.

So... I seriously wish I'd taken some screen shots, but I didn't a couple of months ago when Pajama Jeans showed up on Zulily. Their tagline is "Pajamas you live in, jeans you sleep in."

Well, I didn't plan to sleep in them because I have plenty of PJs, but I was curious as to whether they'd look like jeans and feel comfy, though. So I bought two pair, planning to feel smart if I hated them and kick myself if I loved them.

As it turns out, I love them. They're so thin and comfortable, but they don't look like leggings. As in: You can't see my underpants or my butt crack. They have 5-pocket detailing. But they don't have a zipper or buttons! Sounds weird, right?

The thing is, when they're on, you can't tell (unless you tuck your shirts in, maybe, and I don't).

I got this boot-cut pair of blue "jeans" and a skinny jean in faded black. The blue denim looked less believable as a pair of actual jeans when they were laid out...

Oh, and for the record, these "skinny" cut jeans don't look like leggings, either.

And here are the blue ones. But, once they're on, they look like... jeans.

You might have noticed the pink drawstrings. They keep the pants cinched tightly at the waist, and then the string tucks into the waist so you don't have a "pooch."

In the course of my day, I'm up and down a LOT. I carry, hold, and crawl around after a toddler. I clean house. A lot. I spend time in the floor. There's no binding or bunching. I can do the splits without splitting the pants. I can sit Indian-style without being sorry. Full range of motion. And if I happened to pass out at the end of the day, they are comfortable enough to sleep in.

Hoping that Zulily has them again soon. Until then, I'm going to go stalk the sales on their official site.

Grown-Up Things

There is a lady who lives downstairs and every time I see her outside, she looks like she's coming from a magazine photo shoot. She has sleek brown hair and dresses very nicely. All of the time. Even on weekends when she's in leggings and a sweatshirt, she looks put together and classy.

Inevitably, when she's going to work or returning home in her professional ensemble, I am out chasing after Mal. Maybe I've put make-up on by 5:30 PM, maybe I haven't. My hair NEVER looks that shiny and board straight, even if I use the straightener (which I've done exactly twice since Mal was born), even though my hair IS board straight... because in the Austin humidity, it manages to be both straight AND wiry and kind of foofy.

It almost reminds me of a description of Fleur Delacour from "Harry Potter," where her light dims the people around her (except for on her wedding day <3 ). Like it could be a commercial for shampoo or some kind of anti-depression drug where I'm the before and this breezy lady is the after.

I'm only halfway serious about this. It doesn't make me feel "less" or anything. I do comfort myself in the idea that this woman has only a six-year-old stepdaughter who visits every other weekend and while that's a whole thing all to itself and one I'd rather not do, it's still not 24/7 kid need, amirite? Well, plus we're not in competition. I doubt she's thinking, "Good lord, old lady, give up much?" Or maybe she is. Fortunately, I don't care.

I point this out because it reminds me of something else.

For most of my life, I've been "poor" or, at the best, on the lower level of middle class. It's always been apparent, not just to me, but to others, too.

When I was in junior high, we saved up and I finally got a Coke shirt. I wore the that shirt a *lot* because I loved it and I loved how it looked. One girl who sat behind me in English (and who wore Guess jeans every day) said, "You don't like that shirt, do you? I can tell because you never wear it." Clearly, since I remember those words 30 years later, they stuck. I thought about that every time I wore the shirt (though I have pictures of myself wearing it well into high school, so maybe once I got away from her, I wasn't as self-conscious).

Later, when I was in college and my sister was still in high school, we were out on a Saturday and I wanted to get a picture of Van Buren from the bridge that went over the Arkansas River, We had parked my car at Sonic, I think, and were walking out on the thin pedestrian strip (if there is one; maybe what we were doing was illegal) as cars zoomed past us. At some point, we realized we were both wearing our old, beloved, beaten-up Swatch jackets. We'd had them for years. Something about our trying to walk to the middle of a busy highway bridge in faded old coats while people honked at us made us laugh. We started yelling, "We're poor!" at every car that passed. It made sense at the time.

It's interesting... I don't think I ever remember feeling too "less than" in Las Vegas. That was the first place I lived where most people didn't seem to give a rip how you were dressed. When I moved to Texas, it wasn't that anyone made me feel like I wasn't as shiny as everyone else, but I could tell. I have one of the cutest pictures of Daphne sitting on a hand chair outside of Spencers at the mall (when that used to be a thing in Sherman), and at the time, all I could think was that we were both dressed straight outta Goodwill, and I hated it.

So, fast forward to now... Now, I'm firmly entrenched in the middle class. I could afford nice clothes, jewelry (I have some, but it's mostly Mal's playstuff now; I hardly ever wear any of it, and most of it is pretty old and tarnished), and other things to clean up my act. But I don't. I don't appear any better off than I did when I was a kid, but apparently this isn't a priority to me.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately, as my mother and I were discussing recently the fact that I've never had a "grown-up" set of matching living room furniture. My first apartment was furnished, then straight out of college, I bought a patio set for my living room. I loved being able to swing in my couch! After that, the local newspaper or Craigslist has been my go-to for furniture, and now we have a couch that used to belong to James' grandma.

Every house I've ever lived in, except maybe for the first time we lived in our house in Las Vegas, has looked kind of like a college kid's home because I get the bare minimum I need to survive and since that works, I'm never in any hurry to "upgrade" it. We have a king-sized bed, upsized when we moved and realized Mal would be with us for a while. But we have no head board; nothing but a frame to keep it off of the ground. You've seen my duct-tape job on the Ikea chest we got from some friends, and then a couple of weeks ago, I got a blue chest (real wood!) for free from the Buy Nothing South Austin group I'm in on Facebook. Those things don't match, but I have an answer for that!

The other day, I was walking out to the mailbox and there was a beautiful captain's chair sitting out by the dumpster. Wood with blue cushions. Heavy. Substantial. Also reeking of cigarette smoke. I carried it up to the apartment, put it on the patio, dusted it, Febreezed it, and it's almost aired out enough to put in our bedroom where, voila!, it will bring everything together. Right?

See? I'm a 43-year-old grown-ass woman who got a random chair from the dumpster area of our apartment complex.

I don't think it matters how much money my husband (or I) makes. I don't know that we'll ever have a living room "suite." Or a custom-made "corner curio cabinet" that we paid someone $6000 to make. (Yes, I know someone who did this... to each his own.)

I like everyone else's pictures on Facebook, where their kids are dressed for prom or first day of school and they're standing in front of a fireplace and there are legit pieces of furniture in the shot, and, you know, nice drapes and whatnot. I would totally move into a furnished place like that; I just don't do it myself.

The other day, I was getting excited thinking about a house we'll eventually buy, and I looked on Flor.com (didn't realize there was a store here in Austin, but will definitely go check it out soon!). Love their stuff, and how customizable it is. But, dang it, it's $18 a square! Will I ever get over being so cheap that I think, "Well, it's totally worth that. Let's have fun in each room!"?

Which reminds me... James is totally on the same page as I am. We were talking the other day about the fact that some of our towels look a little sad. But they dry stuff off, which means they work. So we don't *need* new ones. I'm glad he's not concerned with keeping up any kind of appearances. I don't think we would have worked very well together if that were the case.

So, is this a function of not having a lot growing up so I don't feel like I need it? (Incidentally, my parents have always had matching living room furniture... that they kept until it wore out, so we're talking four sets my entire life.) Or am I just lazy? I don't know. But when we get our house, I absolutely do want to get a 1980s dinette set with chairs on casters. Guess I need to keep an eye out on the vintage shops...