Style? What Style?

Shopping with my 13-year-old can be a trip... to the psychiatrist. I have learned to keep my opinions to myself and let her find her own style.

If only.she would return the favor. Last week, while shopping for new shoes (for her), I happened to look longingly at a cute pair of boots.

"That's not your style," she sniffed.

She has a point. I actually don't have a style. Shortly after she was born, we obtained a mortgage and lost a second income. She has rarely seen me wear anything but jeans, t-shirts and trainers. That doesn't mean I don't like stylish clothes... I just don't have a lot of budget for anything that isn't purely functional, nor many reasons to dress in anything that isn't casual.

On top of that, for most of her life, I was 50 pounds overweight. Two years ago, I went from a size 14 to a 2 -- but that just means the jeans I wear now are smaller.

The truth is, I stopped paying attention to fashion when (a) I couldn't afford anything nice and (b) it was kind of pointless, because nothing looked good on me anyway. The latter isn't an issue any longer - but that reason has been replaced with a fear of looking ridiculous by wearing clothes that are too young for me. Jeans and tees are safe.

I wonder what she would have thought of me before husband, home and child. As a single career woman, I invested a lot of my disposable income into some fairly disposable clothes. People laugh at 80's fashion now, but I thought I looked hot at the time: I spent a small fortune on the permed hair, the striped mini-dresses, the lacy Madonna skirts, leggings, zip-leg capri's... and four-inch, spike-heeled pumps.

By the time I was 40 (and a mother), I could no longer handle most women's shoes. Five minutes after putting them on, my feet are in agony. Buying those boots would be a waste of money if I couldn't stand wearing them.

But I couldn't get them out of my head.

The following day, I went back to the store and tried them on. They're the kind of boots that are flat and knit, like a sweater... and as it turned out, they're like wearing socks with thick soles. I can wear them for hours without the usual pain.

So I bought them, and my 13-year-old was horrified - because not only are they NOT my style (in her opinion) but I decided to wear them UNDER my jeans (instead of stuffing the pant legs into them).

So maybe I do look ridiculous... but it's a baby step toward figuring out a look that works for me. 

Original post for 50-Something Moms Blog and Los Angeles Moms Blog by Donna Schwartz Mills, who also writes about raising a teen on her personal site, SoCal Mom.