mommystyre: 5 Days

Hot damn I just realised that I've done exactly 300 posts on this dorky blog o'mine. I should've probably gotten better at it by now, Oof. Ah well, here it is, limping along, spurting and rambling. Touching on things from my job, brain, hands and home. You're welcome to it, because I enjoy doing it and documenting and celebrating the little quirks of my corner of existence. Also, I think my kids are exceptionally brilliant and good looking so it's really their show. What? They are.

I went back and forth about putting these pictures of myself on the internet because it seems silly and makes me self conscious but! I love to dabble in fashion and since my new job is quite a bit swankier it affords me new challenges in outfitting my mommy self. This is not a fashion blog and never will be but I feel my "career" as a barmaid has a limited shelf life and never again will I have a reason to piece together so many outfits and then try them out on a couple hundred strangers each night.

Don't misunderstand me, I am not fashionable. I know what I like and I try to make something similar out of scraps I pick up at the local thrift shop and then attempt to fool actual fashionistas. It's a creative outlet to balance out all the hours I spend in pajamas changing diapers.

All of these badly lit bathroom photos were taken at 4am after working all night. If I look tired, it's because I am. If I look old, I AM. Part of the challenge of bar fashion is keeping in mind that you will be splashed with all manner of liquids, have your hands in water almost to the elbow all night like a medieval washerwoman, you must be able to shake your arms freely, bend way over without showing coin slots or your lacy unmentionables, squat, and don't even think about wearing something flowing or flappy or you will be snagged on the pour spouts- mocking you like dozens of silver fangs from their sticky troughs. Oh and you will be standing and reaching and bending and shaking for 7 hours. No food, no real breaks. 

This leaves you with limited options: dark clothing, mostly pants, minimal rings and bracelets, no loose hair, no spanx, and *gasp! sensible footwear. YOU try to look lithe and in charge while sweating, dunking dirty glasses and nibbling on pretzels and the occasional olive. The upside is this: it is usually dark, usually smoky, and people have been drinking! They squint at you through the haze as a magical being of power, dispensing expensive social medicine and forgive many details, such as dirty hair or a jacket obviously made for children.

Here are five answers to that challenge which actually survived a shift, taken in a dirty mirror by an undercover mommy. I welcome your advice and ridicule.