Forget momshell – I’d rather keep my sweats
Not that I haven't always been infatuated, but before it was a love affair consummated only on weekends. Five days a week, it was heels, hose, makeup and big people clothes.
That's reversed now. Most of the time when I wear something non-stretchy of late it's on a Saturday or Sunday, though my feet haven't seen shoes without strings in ages. I apply the warpaint for parties, though I'll admit it takes a while to remember how to do my eyes.
And no matter how many "news" stories tout a "momshell" trend - that's the latest round of coverage that tells us we all need to aspire to be Demi Moore or Nicole Richie - I am completely comfortable with my frumpy self.
Hot? Only when I forget to trade my sweat shirt for a tee before walking to pick up Big Guy from school at lunch.
Trendy? Yes, but due only to a trend for highlights to look like you have two months' regrowth the second you step out of the salon. Otherwise, I'm a cross between Bozo the Clown and Medusa with her finger in a light socket.
Glamour? That's a magazine I used to read a decade ago, back when I still had time to read magazines.
Comfortable? Oh heck, yes. What's the fun of working at home if you have to dress up every day.
And what's the fun of being an adult if you still have to stress about whether you're as sexy as Nicole Kidman or Angelina Joile or Jamie Lynn Spears. Jamie Lynn Spears? Come on.
At least there's some substance on some lists: Michelle Obama was mentioned in The Associated Press story. Still, it strikes me as a bit demeaning to evaluate an Ivy League-educated lawyer in terms of sex appeal and biceps. Maybe it's complimentary in a way, but it seems to look at less than half the person.
Not surprising because, in general, Momshell is a made-up term that covers only a fraction of what goes into being a mother.
Momshell, you are as real to most people's worlds as Alpha Mom was almost two years ago. Alpha Mom, if you'll recall, was supposed to bring home the bacon and roast the pork loin up in the pan - independence, balance, competence, Madison Avenue stressed.
Except that independence usually came with a mountain of help. That's the same thing Momshells need to pull of the carefully polished, subtly sizzling act.
"I have patients and friends say to me often, 'I don't know how you do all you do,'" Dr. Liesl Smith told The Associated Press. She works full-time at Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital, is pregnant with her third child, exercises regularly and likes to cook dinner for her family most nights.
"But I have lots of help," she says, including a supportive husband, a nanny and neighbor who often lends a hand. "And in the end, I often feel like I have left something short."
So imagine how those of us who don't have Smith's Army feel. And I'd venture a guess that there are more withouts than withs in this world.
Not that I'd spend time worrying about my hotness if the cavalry showed up. I'd be much more likely to read a book. In my sweats.
I'll make you a deal, though. I'll dedicate myself to becoming full-throttle Momshell when AP starts doing trend stories on DILFs and when People mentions that Brad's looking a little scraggly since the twins came along.
Oh, wait. He looked like that before.
Copyright 2009 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.