Children have a delightful way of never letting one get too sure of oneself. Whether it be scanning for grey hairs or interrupting video calls to tell you that a booger is hanging out, kids keep it real.
The other day I put on a pair of pants. Notactive wear and no elasticated waist, in short, quite dissimilar to what most of us have been wearing the past however many weeks. Feeling relatively put together in my high-waist pink linen pants, my daughter informed me she thought I looked good, but it wasn't my usual look. When I asked her what my usual look is, sucker for punishment I know, she told me my usual look is not fancy slacks.
I was flabbergasted by her turn of phrase. Slacks? Seriously? I asked her where she heard the word slacks, as I don't think I've heard it since I was her age hanging out with my grandparents. She shrugged nonchalantly and said, "You know Mum, YouTube". Once establishing that important learning resource was continuing to influence her vernacular, I turned my attention to being put out that she in essence thinks I am a slob.
Immediately getting high and mighty, I informed her that I have quite a fancy wardrobe, it's just that most of it is still in storage in Los Angeles and that when she does see it, she will flip out. She can't comprehend it and I can't remember most of it, nor imagine a time in the near future in this country that I will require it.
Since turning 4, the wretched Covid has been part of her life, meaning that most of what she knows, how she believes life operates, and clearly what Mum wears, has been influenced by the pandemic. In this I am not alone.
Since having kids, friends and I laugh about children pulling mascara off eyelashes, trying to peel off nail polish, not recognising Mum when she emerges dressed up and making matter-of-fact yet quite insulting comments about Mum's boobs or stomach. Dads, of course, seem to get off much more lightly.
As if motherhood hadn't already stolen our youthful looks and identities, Covid has come along and really rammed it home. Months of limited socialising, setting aside the make-up bag, regrowth, frizzy ends, home shellac removal attempts and limited needs for formal or professional wear is going to cause some confusion for those of us with small kids when we emerge from hibernation, hopefully in time for summer socialising, with all that bare skin and such on show.
Covid has robbed us of cocktails after work and stylish dinner soirees at home. In their places are elaborate slow cooks, sourdough loaves and dehydrating citrus slices to jazz up a home cocktail. Who even are we?
Covid has rendered high heels null and void and made orthopaedic shoes must-haves. It's made us think twice about anything in our wardrobes that may be slightly uncomfortable after a dinner out, and overseas it's begun a trend of women embracing grey hair, not what this personal grooming industry needs after a lengthy shutdown.
You can guarantee your new identity or the return to your pre-Covid one, will be commented on by the younger members of the family with brutal honesty. The thought is almost enough to make you want to pull on your sweats and soothe your broken soul with Netflix, but that would be playing into their sticky little hands. So, when the time comes, get out there and show them what Mum is really made of.
