(Not) Lookin’ Good

My parents have a crazy amount of magazine subscriptions, some “reward” for redeeming points of one kind or another.

There are several fashion type rags, “Glamour”, “InStyle”, “Vogue”. I’ve picked them up, looked at whichever actress was featured on the cover, and then put them back down.

The thing is, I could care less about most of the content. Is it wrong that I have no interest in which mascara is going to make me look like an anime character or what piece of clothing I need to really make my spring wardrobe pop? I am not trying to get “bikini ready” or “lose that holiday weight” or figure out which kind of cropped pant is more flattering on my petite frame.

Maybe it’s the fact that despite the fact that I dropped 30 pounds already, most if not all of that was water weight from being pre-eclamptic. I still have a belly, huge thighs and unsightly stretch marks.

I’m wearing maternity clothing and even though there’s not an eight month old pregnant belly around to hold up the band on these jeans, I have no desire to try and pull on the pair of Lucky Brand skinny ones from yesteryear.

I had to buy underwear three sizes bigger than normal to go over my C-section incision and guess what? THEY ARE AMAZING. GRANNY PANTIES FOREVER. No more self consciousness about my muffin top with those low rider hipsters.

My other new best friend is dry shampoo. I have zero interest in blow drying my hair. I don’t care if it’s below freezing outside. NOTHING A HAT CAN’T FIX.

Make-up? WHY?

Shoes other than the moccasin ones that look like slippers? I DON’T SEE THE POINT. And besides, they’re black, which means THEY GO WITH EVERYTHING.

The last time I did more than brush my hair, put make up on and wore a non-maternity dress was when my mom scheduled a professional photographer to come to the house a couple of weeks ago for a family portrait since my brother was in town from Vermont.

I got so freaked out about my stupid, unkempt eyebrows that I cut off half of one and then in a panic, tried to even it out my cutting a half off the other.

SEE, I’M NOT GOOD AT THIS ANYMORE.

-Carly

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