There was a time when my designer jeans weren't shoved to the darkest corners of my closet. There was a time when my fancy 4" heels would click-clack across the floor of the hottest bars rather than serve as accessory for a 3-½ year old's Dress Up Princess Tea Party.
It was only until I stood on the sidelines of a Massachusetts soccer game in a sea of parents styled in mom jeans, sneakers and college sweatshirts, when I began to realize maybe Miami was different from most American cities.
Considering the collection of moist and disgusting things typically found in a mom's bag (cracker crumb lint, half-eaten banana, leaky sippy cup, used wipes and worse), her best bet is a diaper bag or waterproof tote. Clutches, I hardly knew ya.
The family festival requires clothes that can be barfed on, bottoms that won't show your ladyparts on the scrambler, a bag that can hold sippy cups and shoes that give you the ability to move quickly through crowds chasing runners.
A couple of months ago my friend, Gina, came to me with a question, "I need new mom boots. Everyone has these and I don't want them anymore. What should I get?" Gina is right. It's time to get some new mom boots. Clog boots are clogging up her style and the streets of Brooklyn.
My mom had the coolest wardrobe in the 60s and 70s. Every photo I've seen of her back in the day looks like it came out of a magazine. They say that everything old is new again, and if that's so, then why can't I find anything like the wardrobe she once had?
My Nike shirt said, "Every Damn Day." However, like some parents and teachers, my son was not amused. He said, "A mom can't wear that shirt. It's not a good word. Right?" I apologized and sighed. I told Dylan he was probably right and I would not wear the shirt to school again.