Tag Archives: Muumuus

Local Tourist (Date with Myself)

So I’m pretty new to this whole blogging world.  Couple that with my mild OCD and it hasn’t been comfortable for me to publish a post without rethinking and tweaking it about a thousand times and sitting on it for days.  But today I had such a great time in my own company I thought it would be a disservice to myself and my readers if I didn’t post at least something about it.  On the same day.  Without OCD creeping in.  And I only have about an hour until the entire family comes barreling through the door.  Then quiet writing time is over.

So many places to see!

So many places to see!

See my parents and visiting sis-in-law and nephews took a day trip to Disney World.  Magic Kingdom to be exact.  For various reasons, one including that I’ve been there enough to know I power through it at best, I decided to stay home.  Hubby joined them with our son, who played hooky so he could spend time with his cousins, and who according to his written note tomorrow will have been “too ill to attend school.”

Hubby owes me anyway.  I’ve helped his mom move three times in five years and each year the cat-hair covered stuffed animals and baskets of plastic plants breed and multiply.

So after spending several hours working at my computer in the morning I decided instead of watching crap TV I would enjoy an afternoon bike ride in the most glorious October weather we’ve ever had.

I usually go full throttle on my rides.  iPod blasting on shuffle.  Thighs burning.  I pass so many cute shops and restaurants along the way.  I only stop if I’m with someone and they need a drink of water.  Every once in a while I see something random that I must click with my camera phone.  Then it’s back off to the races.  Calorie burning.

My view while dining with myself al fresco. Never noticed a eucalyptus tree in these parts before!

My view while dining with myself al fresco. Never noticed a eucalyptus tree in these parts before!

But today I figured since I really had nowhere to be, no one to pick up from school, no appointments or commitments, why not burn cals and stop at all the places that have caught my eye?  Be gone, OCD.  Let’s be like the tourists and putz around.  So I did.  And it was wonderful.

I had fish tacos by myself.  And they were delicious.  Real corn tortillas and everything.  I’m a social person, and I adore my friends and most of my family, but sometimes it is so refreshing to only have to entertain yourself.  I didn’t mind dining alone.  I was a very good date.  I was patient.  I wasn’t a loud-mouth.  I thanked the waiter.  I ate with my mouth closed.

I went ahead and did it. I had to. It's beautiful! And only $14.

I went ahead and did it. I had to. It’s beautiful! And only $14.

After I nearly licked my plate clean I rode to all the cute boutiques I notice on my speed-ride but never allow myself to stop and enter.  At one consignment shop I found four outfits for under $40.  At another emporium I chatted with the flamboyant and hilarious owner and bought cheap costume rings for Mom, Sis-in-law, and of course myself.

I stopped at a candy shop and bought a piece of hazelnut dark chocolate.  I rode to the marina and inhaled the gulf air.  The wind tickled my face.  My thighs burned.  And I just might have worked off that piece of candy.  But mostly I enjoyed the peacefulness an adventuresome bike ride offers to quiet solitude.

And that I bought my first muumuu.


Filed under Observations

El Commando

My mother always wore muumuus to bed.  On Saturdays and holidays she might wear them all day.

The bird of paradise on my lanai-- inspirational flower for thousands of muumuu designs

The bird of paradise on my lanai– inspirational flower for hundreds of muumuu designs.

Although quite unfashionable, they looked comfy as hell.  Some were bright like the bird of paradise which blooms in the late summer in my tropical backyard patio.  Some were more subdued—perhaps a pale blue with lace around the collar.  They were varying lengths but Mom preferred the gowns that graced her firm, meaty calves.  In my beloved early 80’s childhood sitcom, Three’s Company, Miss Roper would wear those beacons of comfortable gaudiness like she was Lana Turner, pairing each of them with a classy, plastic bead necklace.  She was no Hollywood siren, but she definitely had something right.

Flash forward to the late 90’s.  I’m working at a mall photo store with this witch Dani who had it out for me ever since she learned I was ten years younger than her.  As I bend over to dust some shelves she starts cackling and pointing at me.  “Your panty line is showing and it looks ridiculous!”  Appalled I scamper to the restroom and look at my backside in the mirror.  The edges of my size 12 panties are visible underneath my geometric-style polyester dress.  It does kind of look ridiculous and enhances my already ample rump.

There are occasions which warrant the donning of undergarments.

There ARE occasions which warrant the donning of undergarments. What’s your style?

The next day I buy some of those new-fangled thongs everyone’s talking about.  Those crotch-scrapers definitely cut down on the panty line factor, but after a month or so I didn’t know which was worse—being embarrassed or in constant pain.  So I decided to, as they described it in my beloved college sitcom, Seinfeld, go el Commando.

See the thing about going commando (sans underwear) is that unless you happen to be wearing a dress and walk over an underground fan, it’s really your little secret.  That is, unless you start spilling it to your friends because you can’t believe how freeing it is and why the heck didn’t you do this sooner.  Why, on Golden Girls, my favorite sitcom of all time, Blanche is well known by her mates that she prefers that liberating feeling.

So this all goes back to the fact that I grew up with a mother who enjoyed being informally relaxed, at least apparel-wise.  Thank goodness slips and pantyhose are not a part of our daily modern wardrobe now.  Underwear is enough to deal with.

Gorgeously uncomfortable

Gorgeously uncomfortable

Period pieces, movies set in the 1700’s—I love them.  The décor, the thick, wood furniture, the renaissance paintings, the wigs, hats, ornate shoes and dresses—they are a feast to the eyes.  But underneath the ever-mysterious centuries-ago garments are the corsets.  My wedding dress was a floor-grazing long, cream-colored silk skirt and a corset with about a thousand laces in the back.  It was beautiful but after wearing the top half all day (my hairstylist had me wear it in the morning while having my hair done), by the time I walked to the end of the aisle that evening I thought I might pass out.  At the end of the festivities when my husband and I were back at the hotel for our first night of bridled passion, the very act of him trying to untie me out of that thing left us both exhausted and describing the awesome sex we would have once we got to the Bahamas and into our island clothes.



In fact, one of the main reasons I vied to move to Florida after less than a year of marriage was so I could wear flip flops every day of the year.  Once again, comfort.  And in our Florida department store Bealls, there was until a year or so ago, an actual muumuu section.  The first time I saw it I laughed and took a photo with my phone.  I texted my brother a caption underneath the photo that read, “My form of dress in 20 years”.

Some women wear stilettos, some don corsets.  Some prefer skin-tight jeans; others prance around in string-bikinis.  I’m not at the muumuu phase yet, but I do have a worn-in polka-dotted cotton dress that I call my “muumuu for my forties”.  And unless a gust of wind blows heavy at my hemline, I have a not-so-secret secret that keeps me in total comfort abandonment—all above a pair of luxurious $3 flip flops.


Filed under Yep I'm Becoming My Mother