Saturday, September 26, 2009

Back with a Bang (or should I say, a Bird)

Many heartfelt apologies for my prolonged absence... not quite sure where all that time went. I have much to report on, but let me begin with something I saw today that made the blogger in me sing with glee. It was an abundantly pregnant mom walking across the street with three children of various ages. She wore skin-tight, acid-wash, capri-length jeans (I think just one of those would have been bad enough, the combo of all, on such a very pregnant woman, was mind boggling, as you can imagine) as well as a tank top that left nothing to the imagination. (Trust me, I tried. Hard.) As she crossed the street, a car made a turn in front of her and her kids. It was a really, really stupid maneuver on the part of the driver. I would have been pretty livid myself had it happened to me. But I'm not quite sure I would have handled it as she did, which was to rear back all god-knows-how-many-pounds-of -her, scream until she was red in the face (with a child holding onto each hand and one in tow) and then unceremoniously drop the hand of one child and unfurl the middle finger right in the middle of the crosswalk. Have you ever seen a 12-month pregnant woman in acid wash jeans with three other children fly the bird in public? It's kind of a religious experience.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A Don't and then a Do

It's always more fun to start with the don'ts, isn't it?

I took my daughter to the park last week and boy, did we stumble upon a nice frump specimen. I fear that my photographic skills aren't quite up to snuff, so let me give you a description of the frump you are about to witness. (If you could see me now, I'm rubbing my hands together in anticipation.)

Why YES, that IS a t-shirt with wooden-beaded fringe hanging all along the sleeves and bottom, a la Bo Derek's hair in "10". And yes AGAIN, that IS a strangely erect visor worn underNEATH the hair, making it look all the more like a mushroom. No, I don't know quite what's going on with the pants, though the fabric reminds me of the bedspread my parents had on their waterbed in the 70's. I won't take too much time with the shoes, because I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume they're corrective. And the backpack? Well, at least it's not a fanny pack, but it's a strange accessory to everything else that's going on. In fact, maybe that's what bothers me the most about this outfit - every part of it seems like it belongs on someone else. It's like her head is playing tennis, her torso is watching Flashdance, her legs are heading to Miami Beach circa 1975, her feet are doing some nursing and her back is holding shrunken heads on a trek across Africa.


Ok, ok, now for a do.

My (very unfrumpy) friend sent me this pic of Manhattan Beach moms at the park. Let's all breathe a nice sigh of relief. Cute, unstudied, pulled-back hair. Big, dark sunglasses (thus allowing for the lack of eye makeup, if so desired). Comfy, beachy flip-flops. No unsightly lumps, peek-a-boo thongs, or, for that matter, asses. NO BEADED FRINGE. And, for the piece de resistance, shorts that match the stroller.


Honestly, it seems to me that the first look would be harder to pull off. Where exactly does one find go to find "Bo Derek chic" in modern-day America? Maybe I'm just not looking hard enough.