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My Bad Clothing Karma



So I have finally come to terms with the fact that I am destined to live my life in sweatpants and an over sized t-shirt, typically belonging to my husband. Let me just tell you that this is not because I don’t want to dress nicely or that I don’t care about my appearance. It’s not because I can’t afford to buy myself something cute now and again or because I have absolutely no time to spend shopping. (However, the lack of free time is an obstacle for me as a working mother, but still, it’s not the entire reason why I will never again be able to own high-quality attire).

I have a knack for ruining clothing. While currently, it’s mostly because I am a mother/nanny, this phenomenon started long before my baby chasing days. Before my husband and I were married, we shared a really nice apartment with a friend of ours in a building in the city. It was mostly made up of young professionals, which at the time, we were (sort of) striving to be. However, we probably stretched ourselves a bit on what we could afford for rent, so our budget was tight. We were forced to choose the important things to spend our cash on and cut back on things we could do without. I’m pretty sure no one would have noticed if we’d been out of paper towels for two weeks, but our booze stock never ran low. When we grocery shopped, we stuck to the necessities. Unfortunately, one particular week, laundry soap didn’t make the cut. Several days later, due to a dire need for clean clothes, my boyfriend (now husband) grabbed my dirty pile and ran down to the laundry room in the bottom floor of our building. Because the rest of the neighbors were respectable adults, not only did they actually own laundry soap, but they left it on a shelf in the laundry room – of course, trusting that their fellow respectable neighbors would use their own soap. Well, just this one time, we thought… my boyfriend grabbed a jug of soap and “borrowed”  a small cup for my load. What a good boyfriend – not only doing my laundry but stealing a cup of soap for me. We returned later that night to switch my laundry (probably hoping to “borrow” a dryer sheet from my generous neighbors) to find that every item in the washer was covered in white streaks. What the hell? BLEACH. The soap my husband had “borrowed” from my neighbor had bleach in it. DAMN those professional people! Not only did they own laundry soap, they obviously separated their whites to bleach them now and again. Well, turns out that karma is definitely a major bitch. I had ruined a whole load of clothing, which at the time, was a big deal since my poorly paying job wasn’t going to support me buying a new wardrobe.

I swear, the clothing gods have been punishing me ever since. Despite my every effort, my wardrobe continued to decline slowly over the years. I’ve always had a job working with children – mostly in a childcare setting, so you can imagine what kind of damage ten toddlers can do to your clothes on a daily basis.

Considering the fact that I am now a professional and a responsible adult (somewhat) and I know longer need to “borrow” laundry soap, you’d think I’d be able to put together a decent outfit now and again. Unfortunately for my clothing, motherhood happened. I’m pretty sure that I spent the first eight weeks in my bathrobe, totally avoiding my clothes all together. I mean, what’s the point of wearing a shirt when you are forced to remove it half way every 1.5 hours to attach a screaming infant to your breasts. And on the topic, don’t bother packing clothing to wear at the hospital after delivery unless you plan on ruining everything you bring. If you didn’t already know it, labor and delivery can be a messy state of afrairs… You won’t hate the bed sheet looking moo moo they provide as much as you think you will, considering they will bring you a fresh one every time you need it.

But I digress, even when you do return to normal life after having a baby, nothing you previously owned will fit your permanently altered post baby shape. Even though I have lost the weight, I swear, things are distributed differently than before. Don’t get me wrong, throughout the past year, I’ve made an effort to purchase some nice things. Unfortunately, if you plan on wearing something new and expensive more than once, you better buy two because that shit will get ruined the second you put it on. Baby snot, spit up, spaghetti sauce… the possibilities are endless. If it’s a really special day, you’ll get hit with all three.

On nights where my husband and I are trying to go out to a place in which I will need to wear decent clothing, I literally stay in my bra and underwear until the moment my sitter rings the doorbell. I get dressed and run out of the door before my son can manage to say goodbye, avoiding the chance that he might wipe his snotty nose on the sleeve of the only cute dress I own as we part ways.

This weekend, I purchased a pair of (expensive) mint green capris from Ann Taylor Loft. I loved them – they were amazing. They fit me perfectly, I looked damn good in them if I do say so myself… I wore them for literally four hours before they were covered in mud stains. So, this is me, throwing in the towel. I’ve accepted it – I will never have a closet full of trendy, stain-free clothes. Whether that’s due to my clothing karma or to the simple fact that I am a mother is still up for debate. But just to be safe, I’m thinking about heading back to that old apartment and leaving an extra large bottle of laundry soap for some poor college grad to use when they can’t make ends meet. And I’ll even make sure that it’s bleach-free, too.


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