Post-natal party dress

I'm in the market for some party dresses, or rather, at least one party dress. I have a few in my closet that should probably see the light of day, but I am a nut for cute things. Mainly dresses. Every woman has a thing, something she can't help acquiring because it makes her feel like a million bucks: shoes, purses, accessories, workout gear, makeup, lingerie, scarves...

I do dresses. And now that I'm no longer pregnant, I salivate over many of them. Whenever I leave the house without Jack, I scour my collection, looking for just the right one to wear. When you leave the house/look nice so infrequently, you really want to make it count.

Below are my current picks for a new party dress. Swoon!

My top contender, as I love shoulder details
and chiffon skirts.

My second choice, because the colour is amazing
and the rose detailing is unique and gorgeous.

This one has an adorable skirt,
but it might need to be shortened at the shoulders.

This is so 1950s, and I love it for that reason.
Slightly too dark, but perfect for fall/winter.

My body is the same size it was pre-pregnancy, but my abdomen ain't lookin' cute. No sir. Most of the skin has receded back to its proper place, but my belly button is still a little large and hollow looking, and I have a pouch of skin above my scar that juts out in an unnatural way. It's shrunk slowly over the past eight weeks, but I don't know if it's done yet. I hope not. I have no way of knowing my recovery is over. This could be it.

The weirdest thing about my tummy is the lack of muscle. There's more there now than there was, but I'm nowhere near what I'd consider normal. Several weeks ago it was so squishy I could poke my finger in and there'd be no resistance. My finger would disappear into the flesh and I would quietly wig out.

Wearing my dresses reminds me I can still be cute, regardless of my messed up figure. I also went out for a me day yesterday and enjoyed a professional blow-out for my still unmanageably thick pregnancy hair. The thick(er) hair I developed during pregnancy still hasn't fallen out yet and I'm at a complete loss as how to wrangle it. For now, it looks awesome, like a hair commercial. But seeing as I can't do that myself, I'll welcome the massive hair loss. I just used the word "hair", like, a million times.

This month marks a year since I got pregnant. And I'm stilllll feeling the after shocks.

Mad Men Woman

I'm on a dress roll. I got my income tax return and after throwing 2/3 of it in savings, I bought some dress fun. I think I may be somewhat Mad Men inspired lately. Observe!

This one came in the mail today. It is a dream.
It's slimming and total '60s charming.

This is what I ordered with my tax refund.
Again, '50-'60s awesomeness and yes, that is a lock and key charm on the belt!

But below I digress in maturity and dive into sweetness with these baby blue dreams of picnics and sock hops. Seriously, how did I spend most of my 20s in jeans pinching my tummy and shirts I got 2 for $20 that were merely okay? Just look at these little numbers:

Buying shoes online can be touchy and reviews are so important for sizing,
but I could be persuaded to do it again for these ladies. Cute!

This is so adorable it breaks my heart.
And if I don't buy it now, I'll be too old tomorrow.

Dresses and Tea

Tomorrow is a very ladylike day for me. I'm going out with my friends to our regular tea jaunt, and just to sweeten the day with even more gentleness, we're catching the ballet beforehand. It's going to be an afternoon of loveliness.

I've had a cough that's persisted since my wedding. I've gone to a couple movies and I've done my best to suppress it or time its release to convenient moments in the film. At the ballet, I can only hope I don't bother too many people.

I'm currently in love with a number of dresses that I can't have. I can't have them because I can't afford them currently. Why? Well, this laptop I'm typing on was plenty expensive and Christmas is coming.

But here they are anyway:

I love this little dress, but at $100,

it's a wee bit too expensive for me.

This has recently gone on sale.

Once le computer is paid off, it shall be mine.

This happy little number is so retro chic.

It's also on my must-have list.

I think this one was made for me.

Perfect colour and a high waist. Love!

Now this would be an indulgence.

It's a great party dress, but how much wear would I get out of it?

Plus, it's no longer on sale come tomorrow.

I have somewhere in the neighbourhood of 40 dresses. It's taken about three years to build my collection and I can now get away without wearing pants. But considering there's no mix and matching, and they've got to be seasonal, and party dresses are not entirely useable for daily wear, 40 dresses doesn't go as far as you might think.

Hence... I need more dresses. Heee!

Mail Call

This weekend (as in the one that's just ending) is The Clothing Show. I've been a couple times, mostly with friends, and I love it: the deals, the variety, the treasure hunt that is sample shopping. I've gone alone once, but my heart wasn't in it. Without a buddy to talk you into that adorable dress you're not sure about, or to drag you into a shopping cubicle you ordinarily would avoid but where you find something awesome, it's not quite the same.

I didn't even notice it was coming until it was too late, and so I online-shopped instead for a dress to wear to a wedding I'm going to next month. I never really need an excuse to buy a new dress, but I do so love having a reason. It means getting something less practical for day wear and indulging more in something pretty.

I narrowed it down from these:

Okay, so this is not really wedding appropriate, so I didn't seriously consider it.
But it's sooooo cute. I didn't get it, and now it's all sold out. For the best, though.
I don't really have anywhere to wear something like this.

This was a front-runner for awhile. It's practical in many ways.
I could dress it down really easy, it's neutral coloured, adjustable straps,
and built for a small bust.
But... no. The magic was just not there.

This was my next choice. It's actually polka-dot with a bubble hem,
two subtle details not immediately apparent. The colour is adorable, too.
But it's strapless and bubble hems are not really something you can hem if it's too long,
which on me it could be.

This is my choice. It comes with detachable straps (Obviously not pictured here),
the length is a little short, so on me it should be a bit above the knee, the colours are great,
it's got a high waist and it'll be easy to dress up and down as needed.

I also bought this because when I saw it,
a handful of fun outfit combinations popped into my mind.
It's a real eye-catcher and it'll pair perfectly with basic black tops,
ballet flats and bold accessories.

On top of my happy shopping, I'm also waiting on Halloween costumes in the mail. I'm going to be the Queen of Hearts and the Dude is going to be a scary version of the white rabbit. I'd go with Alice, except I kind of wanted my red hair to work with my costume instead of against it. I had also thought about Pippi Longstocking, Orphan Annie, Raggedy Ann, Jessica Rabbit, Strawberry Shortcake, or Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas. Well, that's not really true. I definitely didn't consider Jessica Rabbit.

I love getting things in the mail, even if it's from myself to myself.

Green with envy

April was a good month. My income tax refund came in and I got an extra pay cheque to play with, one of those delightful things that happens twice a year when you're paid every two weeks. I put some in savings, paid of my credit card, got some new books, and then I bought dresses.
May is back to business. And it's a cold drop back into reality when there are adorable dresses to be had. I was thinking how few shoes I own. I don't care about shoes so much. I like one or two versatile pairs that will go with anything and are easy to slip on. Dresses are what makes my credit card itch. And here are a few lovely girls in green and teal that are singing their siren songs to me:

Luckily for me, this gem is out of stock,
so it's safe from my dress gluttony.

This is one of the most beautiful and flirty dresses I've seen in awhile.
Look at the sash!

This would be the most practical dress of the three,
casual enough for everyday.

The second is my favourite and my first thought was, Oooh! I'm going to a wedding in a couple weeks! But then... it's mostly white and there's kind of a faux pas rule in place about doing that. And considering weddings are the only formal events I attend, this dress would be mostly just to have, rather than to wear. And $130 is a lot to pay for something that will hang out in your closet and make you feel wistful.

Ah, l'amour, l'amour.

I've also started wearing little necklace clocks. They're more fun than watches, which always give me a rash anyway. One is a little owl whose wings open up to a timepiece. The Dude has been calling me Flavor Flav.

Ms. Dress-up

I am a dress whore. I am dress greedy. I have two dresses en route and am already coveting two more, which had I waited two days to order new dresses, I would have made drastically different selections:

Isn't this cute?

Like the sort of thing you'd wear on a picnic.

And...

This dress was out of stock forever.
Of course now that I'd given up on it, it's back up for grabs.

Everyone I know always comments on the fact I am sans pants. Sometimes it's just an observation that I am only ever seen in dresses. Other times it's teasing and mild grief. Mostly it's considered unusual. And I suppose it is. Most women these days enjoy pants.

When I was a little girl, I had a friend who wore dresses every day. I never wore them. Somehow I took it as an affront to my notion of feminism (Yes, I have always been a feminist, even at 8 years old) that a girl would want to wear pants. Of course, that was simplistic feminism (Hey, I was only 8, give me a break), the kind that sends the message we're as good as boys and hence should be doing what they're doing, rather than celebrating what we do differently and making our own choices based on what we actually want.

I gave my little friend the same grief I occasionally get, confused by her lack of pants, and the freedom I associated with them. But she waved me off. She liked dresses, they made her happy, end of story. Nearly 20 years later, I see her point. Sure, in a dress I can't do cartwheels downtown Toronto, nor can I sit with my legs splayed open on the subway, but somehow this doesn't concern me too much. I never could do cartwheels anyway.

I rarely ever wore my kilt in high school. Girls won the right to wear pants while I was in grade nine. In grade 10, I started rocking the pants. I may have worn the kilt a whopping one dozen times for the remainder of my high school career, and I did OAC (grade 13). Mostly I used my kilt as an aide to change into my jeans in the hallway. ***

Incidentally, I've kept the kilt. It definitely does not fit anymore, at least not like it should. Such is life. I bought it on the smaller side to begin with when I was 13 (I'm not sure why I did that to myself), and the need to fit into it I think probably had a big hand in why I was able to continue to do it up until I graduated. Frankly, it was a bloody miracle. I try it on from time to time, to gauge my bodily changes and weight gain. It's like wearing a mother-effing corset.

Had I been the sort of person then that I am now, I would have said to hell with the pants and bought a more practical size that would have gone the distance. Then at least now I'd have a backup cliche Halloween costume each year I get lazy.


*** Going to a Catholic high school means changing into your street clothes as soon as possible after school. Washrooms fill fast. To do away with crowds and waiting around, you change in the hallways. You put your kilt on, take off your school pants, and then put on your jeans. If you're a boy and possess no kilt, either A. haul ass to the bathroom, or B. get comfortable with everyone seeing your underwear. You'd be surprised how many boys chose B. There's an image of purple polka-dot briefs I will never be able to erase from my memory.

PS, I came across this recently and it's a giant dose of WTF, particularly the end of the story. This mother has some serious mental issues. Good luck figuring out life, kid. With a mom like that, you're going to need it.

Figure Happy

So I saw Alice In Wonderland 3D today with McPal and his boyfriend. We had a delicious time. The Cheshire Cat made the movie for me, particularly his attendance at the tea party. It was nice to get out. In particular it was extra nice because a new dress came in the mail today!

This dress is a work of art.
It's the things dreams are made of. *swoon*

I pretty much adore this dress like no one's business. It makes me all curvy 'n stuff. I threw on some brown fishnetty knee socks, black heeled Mary-Janes and hit the town like a sexy secretary. 'Tis also perfect for the height-lacking short-torsoed woman. Life is good.

Every month I treat myself to a new online little number. I'm thinking this one next, which is so very different from all my other more floofy dresses. But it's still mod and retro:

Plus it's got a high waist. Very promising.

Or potentially this adorable cardigan below. You can't see them too well from here, but in the cuffs of the sleeves are thumb holes!
You know, when I stopped fighting my body and trying to wear things I liked on the mannequin or the model, I became more more enthusiastic about fashion. My fashion. My style. I never really paid attention to my figure's quirks, other than the small breast part, because that's not something that escapes your attention. But actually taking a good look at my shape, the one I was born with, my frame, my bones, everything, makes me feel better.

I mean, it's the control thing, right? You think you can manage your appearance totally and so you try. And you invest emotional effort in it, physical effort and time, and denial and tears and worry. After taking stock of everything, most of the stuff I realized I had a beef with was out of my control. Most was nothing diet and exercise would fix for me. Short of drastic or impossible surgery, this was it. It was actually kind of freeing.

I've become a much better shopper for it over time, and a happier woman. That's not to say I don't use clothes to create an illusion about my body. It's just now I know what to buy to create said illusion. You know, rather than being trendy or lazy and hoping for the best and moping over the worst.

My bathing suit is still in the works. Round two at the tailors. It's now the right length and the cups are inserted into the chest, but... the neck strap is too long. Which means the cups are not sitting pretty at my boobies, but weighing heavy on my ribs just below my boobies. I told the seamstress that I was too young for my breasts to sit there. It was a glimpse into the distant future, actually. Grandma tits.

Soon. Soon it will be wearable. And then I can hurry up and wait for summer to come so I can actually wear it.

What Not To Wear

I spend a lot of time looking at clothes I want to buy, specifically dresses. Dresses from ModCloth. I have about half a dozen items from this website and I want more. MORE!

I got into a dress kick after realizing how depressing it was to wear pants. I hate pants. They're always too long, which makes me feel too short. Low rise gives me muffin-top. High rise on my short-waisted body makes me look like Steve Urkel. Medium rise works, but getting the butt, thighs and waist to all co-ordinate into something flattering takes an act of God.

I do own one pair of nice jeans that fit. I got red paint on them while we were painting the apartment. Le sigh. So now I have zero pairs of jeans. And winter's coming. My pretty, pretty dresses and skirts are not likely to cut it. Actually, I even have a new dress on the way. But I justify that because it's the perfect little black dress I've always wanted. I bought it to ease my suffering after the Rogers fiasco.

Back when I was about 20, 21, I dressed like a hobo. I wore clothes that had seen me through art school (we're talking paint splatters, charcoal, general grime and wear and tear) AND high school to boot. I had this pair of shoes that finally gave up and died one winter (I was using them as boots) after having worn them for about four years, day in and day out. I discovered a large hole in them, which explained the river that flowed out when I took them off to examine why my feet were so icy and clammy.

My sweaters had holes too, and my pants were ill-fitting or worse: loose with elastic bands (all the better to gain the freshman 15 and keep it with, my dear).

After college I interned at Wedding Bells magazine. I learned a number of things working there, but what has stuck with me the most is I finally learned how to dress myself like a real person. The women there offered pointers, guidelines, and positive reinforcement when they saw me wearing something they liked.

When Smokey peed on the boots I'd been wearing everyday, my boss saw the bright side: new shoes. When I wore a skirt to the office, she came in to see me, having been alerted to this fact and offered praise. How could I not respond to that? I was living off of $1,000 a month in Toronto with rent that was $675. And I went shopping.

I threw away everything else I owned in a fit of What Not To Wear glory and started from scratch. My early 20s were not an attractive time for me either. I managed to lose the college weight easy enough. I quit drinking pop and eating fast food. 10 pounds fell off in about three months. I grew out and cut off crispy hair left over from a blonde experiment gone bad, and then I coloured it red.

But it wasn't until I was about 24, I'd say, that I really hit a stride. No more fugly pants that don't look good, no more boring T-shirts, no more lame shoes (Though I still wear holes in my shoes now. Hey, when I like something, I like it). Throw in some exercise (Not a lot, but any is more than my natural inclinations), growing out my hair to something finally not resembling a child's hairdo, and I have an appearance I can feel reasonable about.

I was just thinking the other day how I wasted about half of my 20s looking like a bum. Kinda bummed me out. One good thing about growing up is developing a sense of self, with it a sense of style and actually, it almost makes up for the slowing metabolism. I'll revisit this thought when I'm 30.