Fun fact #1 about me: My best girlfriends and I were
fortunate enough to work together at Victoria’s Secret for two years.
Fun fact
#2 about me: I used to own over 30 different bras.
Not so fun fact #3 about me:
My bras and panties* no longer match.
Now this may not seem like much of a confession to you, but
for many years, not a day went by when I was not wearing a matching ensemble.
At times, I’d even match my outer wear outfit that you saw with what I was
wearing underneath. Even my sports bra and panties matched when I went to the
gym. And now before you is a sad remnant of the past, someone who is simply
excited that she managed to find clean panties that don’t dig into her flesh.
How did I get here? This was not a sudden drop in personal
care, oh no. I held it together with my first child. While the number of my
bras diminished from 30+ to 10, I still managed to pull it together enough to match,
because what you wear underneath sets the tone on top (or something like that.)
I may not have been awake enough to drive safely or make major decisions, but I
could still tell my colors apart. I still had my standards. Then I had my
second child.
Then one morning I was getting dressed and realized I
was wearing some crummy cotton panties with a nice bra. What?! What had
happened to me? What had I become? Well, a working mother of two, but that’s
besides the point. When had I let myself go to the point that I was wearing
orange flowered panties with a black bra? Ack! The horror! And then I finished
getting dressed, walked the dog, and dropped my kid off for the bus before
going to work.
It’s funny how the little things that were important aren't anymore. I've got bigger fish to fry than my undergarments. Do we have bread,
sunbutter, and applesauce in the pantry? Are the kids wearing clean clothes?
Does everyone have their lunch packed for tomorrow? Did someone feed the dog
today? (Usually this answer is no – thankfully we have a very patient dog.) But
“do my panties and bra match?” no longer makes my radar.
We were watching the Victoria’s Secret fashion show this
week and the “Angels” were commenting on how nervous they were to walk the
runway. It was a major job responsibility obviously and caused them much angst.
I understand that perspective is everything, but I thought about my Victoria
Secret girlfriends and I, managing motherhood and jobs the best we can; being
stressed about walking down a runway in my bra and panties, wearing huge wings and
heels seems a bit laughable. I’ll take a runway over running my kid to the ER
any day. Now that’s stress.
I may be a fallen angel who wears cotton with satin and
mismatches daily, but I’m still pulling off quite a bit every day. Can I still earn my wings? And the
stuff I do you can actually see, as opposed to being hidden under my clothes. It’s
all about acceptance, right? Although don't get me wrong, a few new matching sets would still be
nice…
*Men wear underwear. Women wear panties. You may not like the word "panties" but you'll just have to get over it.
