I used to mow the grass in cut off Levi 501s and a bikini top. It was an excuse to strut back and forth in the yard and work on my tan. As time wore on those Levis got shorter and shorter but I got older and sassier and cared less and less about what was appropriate. I was mowing my damn grass, right? And wolf whistles happened less and less frequently. I’d take what I could get.
This summer I mowed the grass often just to have a few minutes to myself. The cut off Levis have long since been retired. These days I don’t put a tremendous amount of thought in to what I wear to mow the grass. None of my neighbors (the same neighbors that wave at me daily as I stroll down the street with my dog or run by in the morning with the jogging stroller) are likely to cat call anyway so who might I even try to impress?
But my grass mowing attire was at least Go Out in Public Even If It Is Only To The Gas Station worthy. I would be traipsing back and forth across my yard for thirty minutes. This warrants more care than the Run Down To The End Of The Driveway With The Trash Can Before You Miss The Trash Truck outfit.
And then this happened.
Look carefully. This woman reflected in the side of her car is wearing a velour sweatsuit with the pants pegged so as to not drag along the ground and Crocs. Let me repeat that. I have PEGGED THE LEGS OF MY VELOUR SWEAT PANTS. And I have chosen to wear socks and Crocs. Now I think that some kind of a tool (any kind, really) can elevate a woman’s hotness. But let’s face it. A leaf blower is not much of a tool.
I think I have given up. It has happened.
I remember (as long ago as yesterday when I would not have dreamed of doing this!) looking at women and thinking “what the hell is wrong with you? You have a pulse, for fuck’s sake, brush your hair” and now look at me. What am I doing? Perhaps this has been a lesson in “Judge Not Less Ye Be Judged.”
Granted, I have a terrible cold. My youngest looks like a refugee and is currently wearing a shirt belonging to my oldest and flowered pants. Her baby is being toted around in a towel. I haven’t really made much in the way of dinner in two days and I am running on caffeine and Dayquil. (Speaking of running, I knocked back two slugs of Dayquil this morning, before I left for my run and set a PR for a 5K distance. Not an all time PR, but a since I have been injured PR. Wheee! Bronchodilators for the Win!!)
I am not at my best. I’m not sleeping. Showering is a successful day. I am spent and cranky and not looking for a hot date. But pegged velour sweatpants?
I can do better than that. I can. And I will. You have my word.
I’m a wreck. But my yard looks nice.
So, how are you? Have you caught yourself doing anything mortifying lately?
I like to mow instead of rake. It’s like vacuuming your yard.
Excitement on the side 
the possibility always exists that you are a trend setter.
Kelly – I took something my oldest forgot to school this morning in sweatpants and a sweatshirt – no make up and hadn’t brushed my hair. I figured I could slip in quickly without much notice and leave it with the office folks (where my look might get some sympathy). Instead I walked in to find my daughters entire grade lined up in the hall ready for assembly. Teachers and all!
HA! Emily (my little fashionista) is fortunately impressed with my athletic endeavors. So, as long as I am in gym attire I am safe for stopping by the school.
Giving up just means that your working harder on other things, right? I sure hope so, otherwise I’m screwed.
I’d hate to think of all the things I’ve given up on lately. And mortifying? How about eating copious amounts of pumpkin pie with cool whip (full fat) for dinner and bedtime snack on more than one night this week… And I wonder why I’m slowly gaining back that weight that I was so lucky to lose while breastfeeding. Oh well. There’s gotta be worse things, right?
You are getting a jump on pumpkin pie season, lady! Nice work, way to be ahead of the curve. It’s funny – I buy full fat everything. Because I think that the low fat versions of things are just filled with other non-food stuffs. But coolwhip? I buy low fat cool whip – because I don’t think coolwhip is real food anyway, right? heh. The things we explain away to make ourselves feel better. I like to keep mine in the freezer and eat it with a spoon.
In my defence, Canadian thanksgiving is this weekend… So I’m not THAT far ahead on pumpkin pie season. And full fat cool whip is also not my first choice, but the store was sold out of low fat – like you, it is the only think I prefer to have as low fat… And I also like to eat it with a spoon… From the tub… Long lost soul mates?
Ahhh, you Canadians with your Thanksgiving all willy-nilly. Long but no longer lost on the mates, friend.
Um, well…Your yard looks very nice…
You are kind, lady. Kind.
I’m sure mowing the lawn did wonders for your congestion! Sheesh. How is it even an option to mow a lawn with a toddler around? I can hardly unload a dishwasher or do laundry. Take off the crocs and sit down woman! Better yet, lie down. Perhaps lie down in the shower.
Ahh… You that I have two things – an 8 year old and the ultimate bribe. Em can’t watch TV during the week. But if she watches Lucy for thirty minutes after school she can have the TV on. Somehow it is worth the trade off. It’s amazing what you can accomplish in one episode of pickyourpoison.
Ooohhhh…. Hunny…. Bless your heart….
HAHAHAHAHA. There is no better reply. You win.
I love your blog! You make my day! And Lucy looks adorable. Notice she is taking good care of HER baby (towels are nice!)!
Well, shucks! Thank you!! Lucy is a very good mommy. I must be doing something right.
You are putting zero effort into appearance and I’m exercising.
Dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria.
Yep. What will happen next?
I’ll see your Crocs and up you a pair of Uggs ;)! I figure the only way you’re getting laid wearing Crocs is by someone equally fashion-less wearing Uggs. And vice versa.
Fair enough.
I laughed. I’ve made midnight Wal-Mart runs in (my wife’s) Crocs and (my) pajama pants. Sometimes, giving up is the right thing to do.
OOhhh… lady Crocs. Niiiice.
I love you. Like super duper girl crush love you. Because, yes.
My kid has been rocking the refuge look for, I don’t even know how long. I noticed this morning that my husband did in fact change the grimy pink henley shirt she’d been wearing for two days into another pink henley shirt. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have happened.
I haven’t shaved anything in a week.
Makeup? Why bother…
And yes I wore this tank top under my clothes to work yesterday, to bed last night and I’m STILL wearing it to work tonight.
Kill me.
Sometimes a tank top is just perfect and it can’t be changed. I’ve showered and worn the same tank top again. Yep, sure have.
Now I don’t feel so alone…Comfy gray tank top, I just can’t go without you today…:D