It's not mom jeans but it's not good either

photo from here

The worst thing about not working? My outfits, hands down. Now that I'm an urban farming co-op mom who doesn't work outside the home, things have really taken a nose dive in the fashion department.

It's a small price to pay for my freedom, and I hate to get too cliche about how much chicks love shoes but, well, I sort of love shoes a whole lot, and at this particular moment my life really only calls for shoes I don't mind getting spattered with poster paint or filled with sand.

Even looking at clothes has lost its luster. I'm like a depressed person trying to muster the will to get out of the house. What's the point? I think as I pass racks of really cute, black Japanese-y tunics and big ol' Beyonce earrings that would normally have me filled with a rekindled will to live.

I have recently been inspired by a bunch of the preschool moms who manage to pull off these cute yoga wrap/clogs/jeans ensembles, but then I remember the pendulous muffin top that I am working with these days and my fashion slump comes back.

What I need is a uniform. It must involve black Dansko clogs because in a fit of wanting to fit in, I bought a pair. All suggestions welcome. Photos especially appreciated.

Selfish jeans

Yesterday I bought my first pair of jeans for over $100.  This goes against much of what I believe in.  Or much of what I say I believe in.  There is this line in an essay by David Rakoff (very funny guy, incidentally) where he writes something about justice or equality being the central theme of his life and then corrects himself and says "no, actually, thinness is the central theme of my life."  That's how I feel.  I want the good of humanity and art and literature and hiking to be my central concerns, but really, I spend a lot of time thinking about my neck and my ass and whether or not people link me or think I'm pretty, or funny or smart.  So, I suppose the yuppie jeans are just the logical extension of my self absorption.  

In my defense, my twentieth high school reunion is tonight. 

Things I fantasize about doing with my life:

Moving to a rural area and become an organic farmer (complete with bee hives)

Moving to Kenya to work at that huge refugee camp for the displaced Sudanese

Moving to Alaska to be hermetic and literary

Moving to Madagascar to help prevent erosion

Moving to Telegraph Hill to be a rich bohemian 

Becoming a midwife and moving to an impoverished African country where they need midwives

Or I could just stay put and count my blessings, which I am trying to learn to be better at.

And speaking of blessings. . .a completely unrelated picture of Oliver in the tub.  Just to lighten the mood.