It occurred to me the other day—I wear mom jeans. My mom jeans are not made by Gloria Vanderbilt, nor Jordache… my mom jeans are an updated version. Abercrombie & Fitch circa 1999. Original boot-cut. Light denim color. Comfy fit. And most importantly—a reasonable waistline height.
I almost got rid of these jeans. I was ready to bag ‘em and drop ‘em off at Goodwill. Low-rise, lower-rise, and extreme low-rise were all the craze. My jeans were no longer fashionable. To top that off, A&F and all the other jean brands I loved seemed to be getting smaller and smaller in fit. It seemed like all the jeans were conspiring against me. I looked good and hard at my jeans. Okay, I thought—you’re going to stick with me.
Now they’re my mom jeans. At work and for those nights out, I wear the low-rise (well, as low as I can handle.) I look hip. I look non-momish. I tug my shirt down. I reach behind to check everything’s under cover.
But when I’m on mom duty, I get out my beloved mom jeans. I can bend over in confidence. No crack appearances. No muffin top. I watch my kids. My jeans watch my ass. I love my mom jeans.
What’s something you wear or do that made you realize, “Holy shit, I’m a mom!” Other than giving birth, obviously.
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HI
My name is Robbyne and I am a mom and just started a blog. I’m hoping to make some blog friends here. I too am a mom of 3 and I too have several sizes of mom jeans.
This is going to sound corny, but I have a big fuzzy yellow robe that makes me realize I’m actually a mom. When I cuddle with Cassie while wearing my robe late on a Saturday morning–way past the time “civilized” people have changed out of their jammies–it reminds me of when I was a little girl and cuddled with my mom in her big fuzzy pink robe. I’m a mom now too–and I love it!
Bwah! “I watch my kids. My jeans watch my ass.” I *love* this post!
I’ve had plumber butt in so many public places thanks to low-rise jeans. They aren’t really made for squatting next your toddler while she plays with the train table at Joseph Beth, now, are they?
I notice, in general, that I’m more likely to let myself look sloppy when I’m doing the mom thing. By sloppy I mean that I used to o all I could to make sure my clothes and hair and makeup were perfect before leaving the house, even if I as just wearing sweat pants. Now I’m much more likely to just to walk out the door – who cares? By the time I get my child into her shoes and coat and into her car seat in the rain with all of her junk, my perfectly coiffed hair would be ruined anyway.
Besides the mom jeans (I, too own a few pairs) I realized I was a mom the other day at work. One of my co-workers pointed out the dried snot on my shoulder (a loving momento from my son) and I just shrugged. I really didn’t care that I had been walking around all day with a goober on my sweater. A year ago I would have been mortified by that!
Let’s not forget about the mom purse. I have found that my once fashionable purse has nearly tripled in size and at any given moment holds items like my wallet, cellphone, keys, etc. but has also become home to a stack of diapers, wipes, gold fish crackers, and various small toys. Nothing say mom like going to get out your wallet at work and having a pack of diaper wipes hit the floor……
I think it was the first time I went to work with out mascara. I used to ALWAYS wear mascara. I have short, stubby, blonde eyelashes and have been wearing mascara since I was about 13 years old. I didn’t feel “complete” without it. Now I just don’t have time for it! So along with the lack of mascara, and the addition of my mom jeans, bigger purse, and spit-up or booger-covered clothes, I think I’ve officially stepped into the role of motherhood.
I love the MUFFIN TOP! I frequently see this and now I have a name for it! Before we called it “fashion victim”.
Good to know also is that designer jeans are coming back HIGHER WAISTED for those of us with flabby abs… I heard Seven Jeans makes a great pair. And I love Paige Premium Denim. Now you can wear mom jeans and look cool again too!
I would not be caught dead in a pair of mom jeans. Ugh. Long live the low-rise. They make this thing, it’s called a belt. If you wear it, your coin-slot doesn’t show.
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