I got my hair cut yesterday - and despite my requests to have a cut like Padma's on Top Chef, I ended up with something shorter and slightly more "suburban-housewife" than I had hoped. Now, Providence isn't exactly the hippest place on the planet, but there is a nice little downtown area that is trying to establish itself as a Soho-like place to shop. Needless to say, I haven't done any shopping there (or anywhere for that matter) in the last year, and there are some lovely little boutiques with pricey clothes and jewelry. After feeling slightly "updated" into a more cosmopolitan status with my freshly cut locks, I walked out of my glam salon and browsed a couple of these shops. What a bad idea! It hasn't occurred to me how hideous my wardrobe has become because I just don't get out much... clearly shopping with 3 kids is impossible, and convincing Myles that I need to go shopping doesn't cut it. He always says, "Oh. So you NEED pair of jeans?" I'm tired of convincing him that jeans from 3 years ago don't make me feel good... and that the knees are all blown out and make me look like I'm an extra in Footloose.
Holy shit though. Even if did buy the new jeans I wanted, it would cost me over $100. This is the kind of stuff I want. I don't want Old Navy and Gap. I don't even want J Crew. What is wrong with me people? I gave up my super-trashy weekly magazines, but I cling to my tacky subscriptions to Lucky, Domino and Vogue. I know that's partly what makes me WANT WANT WANT. Otherwise I'm not sure I'd pay much attention. But these crappy periodicals are like my little lifeline to my former self. Miss Nelson. Remember her? I kind of do. She liked living in the city, shopping for trendy shit at sample sales and blowing money on expensive dinners and drinks... she took good care of her fingers and toes, she smelled nice and had good haircuts. Always appropriately waxed. But then Miss Nelson had kids.
Miss Nelson is still missing...
My materialism has become so complicated that I decided to reconsider my "wants" and narrow them down to true "needs" - Because ultimately there are more important things to consider - like how you pay the bills and maintain good credit so we can buy a house. But no matter how hard I try to give up some of my former obsessions, I can't ignore that voice in my head that says, "Who have you become? And how did you become this new person so willingly?"
There's nothing like a move back to Vermont to make me feel in touch with my inner City Girl. (Perhaps it wasn't a haircut that I was looking for yesterday, but a confirmation that I'm still ME deep down. And when I say haircut, I'm talking about the kind of salon that gives you a latte when you arrive and scrubs your head for 15 minutes... aaahhh.) So yes, despite my recent dry and frugal moments, I'm still a crazy glutton. I appreciate over-priced fashion. I still can easily spend $20 on import cheese without guilt. What will Norwich VT do with me? Fuck. I mean, I think we are buying a house from a Mormon family! (Any suggestions on how to cleanse the house from the spirit of Joseph Smith?)
Well, back to my initial point, I have decided that I can't let a location change take any of the remaining sass out of me... I'm so afraid to be stuck in hideous footwear for 8 months out of the year. When there is snow on the ground most of the time, you become practical and frumpy - how BORING.
Clearly I'm exaggerating about this Fear of the Frump, but I see it as a reflection of some other pending adjustments that I have to make in my mind. Like how I am afraid of taking Ruby and Eloise out of an incredible school and plopping them into a mediocre 4 day a week program... ew.
see! I'm such a fucking snot.