Mom Makeover: The Road from Ho-Hum to Hawt

One of the best pieces of parenting advice I got from my mother involved mascara.

I've shared my opinions on mom jeans, Keds, denim jumpers and the like. I don't believe that being a mother is license to be a frump. We all take a few steps away from our dry clean only wardrobe once we have children, but it's not necessary to trade in fab for frump. Yet all too often, it happens. Like back fat. It just creeps up on you before you realize that everything in your closet has an elastic waistband. When we stop putting ourselves first, we plummet to stretchy pant hell.

I'm guilty as charged. To a certain extent.

I recently embarked on a journey with a few other women to do a Mom Makeover. Nothing extreme to walk the catwalk or sport a tiara. Just a simple makeover that's realistic for a mother who spends her time in car pool, at the park, or on a date. I was hoping to transform a couple moms who could go from "Park to Party" in a flash.

With the help of Jill, Joanna, Pam, and Amanda, we pulled it off for our first contestant on Park to Partay!

Meet Liz.

36-year old mother of a three-year old daughter and 5-month old infant son. Liz is tired. She's been feeling frumpy and is scrounging up the time and energy to hit the gym again. Her own sister in law even threatened to turn her over to What Not to Wear. Ouch! Liz knows there's a sprinkle of her former self sparkling in there somewhere.

We were there to help Liz regain her shimmer so she can put some shimmy back in her step.

Meet our makeover team.

Jill, owner of hairdos. Before Jill pulled out her scissors she talked to Liz to get a sense of her style, preferences, and lifestyle. Clearly Jill took the time to know the client first instead of treating her head as a canvas with license to chop. We've all been in a salon seat like that, right? Jill gave Liz a kicky little cut and even gave her options to wear her hair up or down. Options are good. Did I mention that Liz donated a whopping 11 inches of her mane to Locks of Love? I know how freeing it is to cut off all that hair. The key thing about the magic that Jill worked is that she kept Liz's hair maintenance free. After all, what mom wants to deal with a high maintenance hair style that involves multiple gooey products and various electrical devices? It's a wash and go cut that will grow out lovely, meaning Liz can look good while not swapping out style for sleep.

Joanna, makeup artist and owner of Look at Me Makeup. And I don't use the word artist lightly. Every girl dreams of the make up case Joanna was toting. Oh, the creams and powders and shadows and blushes and liners! Some of her go-to products to make us moms look more awake than we feel: mascara, concealer, blush, lip gloss, moisturizer! Also, maintain those brows, ladies. Like Jill, Joanna focused on making Liz's makeup regimen fast and easy. Wearing makeup doesn't have to be a 30-minute ordeal that requires paint brushes and spackling. I don't even own blush and I've never put a drop of foundation on my face in my life, yet I think I don't look half bad. Joanna gave Liz makeup tips that fit her lifestyle and schedule. The beauty is that she also gave Liz tips on how to turn the makeup amp up to 11 for date night. Va va va voom! Again, options are good.

Pam, owner of Dress. and fashionista extraordinaire. Pam is that rare blend of fashion and frugal. Pam's shop perches at the intersection of Quality Road, Style Boulevard, and Affordability Avenue. Dress. is a lovely little boutique that features consigned and new designer clothes, shoes, and handbags. And boy are the brands in there mouth watering! Pam, having the honor of being my most fashionable friend (who is blessed with lean long legs and a tiny waist...damn her), not only sells the clothes, she helps with personal styling too. She gave Liz so many fantastic options that it was nearly impossible to make a choice. Sometimes options aren't so good. ;-) The ticket was to find Liz an outfit that's comfortable, versatile, fun, and easy. Do you see a trend here? Perhaps the best testimonial is that I left Dress. with the most perfect little black dress, and our photographer bought three! Ooh la la.

Amanda of Amanda Olson Photography. She's one helluva talented photographer whom I'm going to hire to take my headshot for my book jacket one day. Amanda captured not only the activities of the day, but the spirit as well. Though she and I were in the same room, her eyes saw things mine did not. She really has a storytelling gift. Amanda's photos were simply glorious. There's nothing phony or diva about her, but she is a true artist. You have no idea how hard it was to select photos for this post. Every single shot rocked. I kid you not. I'd pepper my walls with Amanda's photos and spent a good hour just perusing her gallery on her site. Poor Amanda will now have to chase my two sons and a pesky dog to capture some family shots this fall. You can see more photos from our day here.

So the key is this: style and comfort are not mutually exclusive. We owe it to ourselves to put our best face on and our best foot forward. Clad in a touch of mascara and some swoon worthy shoes.

Motherhood is hot. Bring it.

New Adventures at Old Navy

The blogosphere is all atwitter with issues about integrity, transparency, honesty. For that matter, Twitter too is atwitter with such discussions. As a blogger who writes with my values and ethics at the forefront of what I share, I profess to bring you the whole truth, nothing but the truth.

So what does this have to do with the Old Navy sign up there?

Well, I get to be a brand enthusiast for Old Navy. I'm not sure about the details and what the year will hold but it's sure to be fun. What I do know is I'm not being paid, I'm not required to blog about the brand, I can write my own unedited opinions if I do choose to write, and I get treated to some free stuff every so often. When I get something gratis, you'll know it.

I don't generally do product reviews or giveaways unless they are for brands and items I adore. I often just share my opinions on a random assortment of thises and thats. All the long time readers of Dirt & Noise know, for example, that I am a raving fan of Lash Exact mascara. Cover Girl has never sent me anything for saying so. In fact, I bet their PR people have no idea. Ditto for the ingredients of all the 5:00 Fridays I post.

Old Navy is one of those go-to brands for me. Much of my maternity attire came from there, and the jeans fit me perfectly with no added alteration costs. Damn those petite sizes that aren't made for us short folks after all. Grrr....

I've written about my feelings on boy clothes before. Basically the continuum runs from high testosterone to sissy. My general rule is that if a boy can pee standing up, he has no business in anything smocked. Not to mention that the damn john-john snaps make doing his business all the more difficult, and with most kids, you don't have time to spare. I also eschew the iron on character licensed crap. I do have some favorite stores where I go for special occasions or just to find that something cool and unique. Moxie Kids is just that place. And no, I'm not getting paid to say that. I just happen to dig that store and am thankful I don't have a daughter every time I walk in there. No sense in my kids being better dressed than I am. But the dresses and tights and coats, oh my!

Anyhoo...

Old Navy treated Bird and Deal to a back to school shopping spree. Don't keel over when I tell you that I walked out of there with not a thing for myself, though I totally looked and will be back later when I don't have the boys in tow!

What I like is that the jeans are rugged with adjustable waists. They are hearty enough to be passed down from Bird to Deal with no holes in the knees. Considering the jungle gym mania that pumps up that kid, this is no small feat. Plus the vintage inspired T-shirts are cool without being cheesy or tacky. I don't mind Superman and Chewbacca gracing my boys' torsos every once in a while. It makes getting dressed for school fun. And hey, at 8:00 AM when everyone is cranky and rushed, I'll take what I can get to make the morning routine squeak by smoothly.

During our shopping spreee I doubled in the role of paparazzi. Have a look:


Deal could have cared less about the clothes at first. All he wanted was to pet the dog. The poor kid covets a dog so badly that he didn't even care it was fake.


Bird was happy to find a Star Wars shirt in his size. He was more happy I let him put it in the basket. He couldn't believe he actually had autonomy in the store. Like I said, the licensed stuff does not dominate the dresser drawers at our house. Plus, I really hate Star Wars so this was a big concession on my part. I actually lost followers on Twitter for saying that. True story. Anyway, Bird was a happy camper, and I was happy to oblige.


Deal, on the other hand, was totally bummed that there were no XS size Star Wars shirts for him. It's amazing that kid isn't ridiculously spoiled. Do you have any idea how hard it is to not keel over and give in to his every whim with a face like that? I mean really, look at him. If you feel the strong urge to pitch in to pay for his college or even a playset for the backyard, don't deny yourself.


Here we are in the dressing room. My kids have never agreed to try on anything before. The only time they've ventured into a dressing room was during a period in which I temporarily lost my mind and took them swimsuit shopping with me. It was ugly.


Here's our reserved dressing room. We were like rock stars. I totally should have made diva demands like only purple M&Ms served on sterling silver platters, Moscow Mules in copper cups, purple dendrobium orchids, Brown Eyed Girl playing on repeat, and a sisal rug underfoot.


While Deal looks like he is being helpful, he actually had just stolen the cart from Bird and was racing it down the aisle. Stinker.


Teamwork at last. Notice Bird's hand on Deal's arm. It looks like gentle guidance, but I have a hunch there was coercion involved.


Bird, thinking my shutterbug ways are an embarrassment to myself. With that bowl hair cut, he's the one who should be embarrassed. This is what happens when Mac Daddy takes him to Not-So-Super Cuts without me.


Serious shoppers need sustenance. The folks at Old Navy provided us with organic juice, bottles of water, and even organic snacks. They also had an assortment of toys and a manager on hand to chill with the boys while I shopped for a bit. I think Bird and Deal were doing their Mutt and Jeff routine for her.


So here we are, blending right in to the Old Navy mannequins. They are admittedly a tish creepy. I think some girls during sorority rush looked just like them, frozen plastered on smiles, taut cheeks and all. And pardon my poor posture. I am clearly weighted down by those shopping bags.



Gentlemen, at the tender ages of 6 and 4.

Does this sweater make me look fat?

When I picked up Deal from preschool yesterday the first words that popped out of his mouth were, "Mommy, you look like there's a baby in your belly in that sweater!" His eyes were wide and glistening with surprise the way they were when I picked him up from school after I had just lopped off 11 inches of hair.

I shimmied him out of public range and tried to laugh it off, telling him that the sweater was just baggy and of course Mommy has no baby in there. Ahem, ha ha ha. Funny, right? Blush. Groan. Hmmm....

And so I thought we were done with that.

Four hours later at Target. Right after the snooty private school down the road has dismissed for the day. Plaid uniformed tweens and teens linked arm in arm, giggling and gurgling with glee. Stepford Moms to the left of me, jokers to the right, there I was stuck in the middle with Deal.

And in the boys underwear aisle, flanked by the very busy girls underwear aisle, Deal exclaims, "Mommy! You do have a baby in your belly under that sweater! I can see the bump!" Then he proceeded to poke me, as if his little curled fist couldn't resist.

Heads turned and stared right at my stomach. Never in my life have I sucked my stomach in so far. The kid once again took my breath away.

Resell. Reuse. Recycle.

I loved being pregnant. I ate with abandon and loved not having to suck in my stomach for a good seven months. And I admit, the elastic waistband was my best friend. God, I miss that. My slight frame of 100 pounds did flourish to 145 when Bird was growing in me. That's almost HALF my body weight for those readers who never aced a math class. And to think I lost and gained it all back with Deal. For the record, I did lose it a second time too. Nonetheless, pregnancy was a piece of cake...and a bowl of ice cream, a handful of cheese fries, a decaf vanilla latte, and mango lassis. Maternity clothes were even cute and getting cuter every season!

Birth was easy too. Please don't smack me next time you see me. Granted, I had the modern medicine benefit of an epidural (This girl had nothing to prove. Clearly millions of women before me gave birth without drugs. I know it can be done. Not for me. I figure we don't get a root canal without Novocaine these days so why shirk the comforts of medicine? I'm not preaching epidurals for all, just stating my experience.) Plus, I swear by prenatal yoga to open things up. Anyway, three hours from start to finish (labor pain to baby in arms), three pushes, done. Mac Daddy jokes that he didn't even get to crack into the snacks we packed. Bunion surgery was way worse than childbirth.

So pregnancy was a dream, childbirth an ease, motherhood...a different story that you'll glimpse through the annals of this blog. After two healthy pregnancies and two healthy boys, this girl is done. I sold or donated all my maternity clothes, though I was tempted to hang on to a few discrete pieces for those days I needed some fat pants.

If your closets are still bulging with maternity wear you'll wear no more, check out Belly Bundles. You can consign your maternity clothes, make some cash, and be green! Yes, recycling clothing is an easy way to treat our planet gingerly. If you're in the market for new chic maternity fashions, Belly Bundles will be a dream. You can buy twice as many hot outfits for the price of one new one at Motherhood. Maternity clothes get such little wear and tear so all the pieces are in top shape. And with designers like Michael Stars and Japanese Weekend, you're sure to find some awesome additions to your growing addition. I spent waaaayyy too much time window shopping and I'm never going to be pregnant again. Hmmmm...that almost makes me shed a tear.

TSPUM: Treaty to Stop the Proliferation of Unflattering Momwear

I do not claim to be a fashionista, fashion slave, or trend setter. OK, admittedly I can be a fashion victim. No one will ever add "Style Icon" to my epitaph. Audrey Hepburn I ain't.

That doesn't stop me from having an opinion on what moms wear.

Here's the Dirt & Noise Treaty to Stop the Proliferation of Unflattering Mom Wear:

Mom jeans. Burn them. Turn them into dog bed covers. Use them as ground cover to keep weeds at bay. Just do not wear them. A high waist, full thigh, and tapered leg is not flattering on anyone. Even my nine foot tall super model friend MH wouldn't look good in them. And trust me, she looks good in everything because clothes are made to fit a nine foot tall size 0 these days.

Keds. Seriously, why are you wearing the same sneaks you wore when you were 7-years old? Mischa Barton pockets the paycheck, but the girl doesn't have one lousy pair of Keds in her closet. Go ahead and sport some cool Pumas instead.

Wind suits. Track suits. Call it what you will. Your clothing should not make more noise than your children. The whoosh whoosh sound of your thighs rubbing together in a pair of nylon sweat pants is warning enough to make others leave the playground premises. How about some capri sweat pants and a cute hoodie instead? Just don't wear "Juicy" across your ass. And by all means, don't match your husband unless you are on the same Olympic team.

Your husband's button down shirt. Only my friend Newman can pull off this look. And that's with her husband's crisp white oxford tied in a knot atop her Lilly capris. Sure, it's kinda sexy to wear your husband's shirt after a quickie, but keep it contained to your own home. Most women don't look so chic in oversized menswear. You'll find some lovely white shirt options at Boden. Or Target. Or Old Navy. Just wear one sized and cut for a woman. Promise you won't go all 80's on me and pair your husband's shirt with black leggings.

Anything with licensed characters. Even Bird and Deal don't wear Pooh or Nemo on their clothing. Certainly grown women should not either. It's bad enough that they make diaper bags emblazoned with that crap. Leave Minnie Mouse on your kid's lunch box where she belongs. I find it ridiculous that the Disney Store even has an adult apparel category.

For the flattering but ridiculous Momwear category:
Rock and Republic jeans, kitten heels, and a Stella McCartney top...at the park. Clearly these women don't get down in the sandbox with their kids. High fashion is not for play dates. Save the Lucky Magazine getup for date night. Your kids deserve machine washable garb if your time with them is indeed quality. And PS, get over your big bad self.

Form, function, and fashion are not mutually exclusive.

What other mom apparel horrifies you? What should we add to the Treaty?

An Age Appropriate Easter

Easter is fast approaching. That means cute (matching, natch) outfits for Bird and Deal. This was an easy task when the boys were gurgling, swaddled infants with rolls galore and delectable chubby cheeks. At 45 and 35 pounds and approaching the limits of the height charts, they no longer look cute in smocked john johns with bunnies and posies embroidered. The whole one piece outfit is no longer an option with the torsos on my kids. Despite their extraordinarily long torsos, there is no way in hell you'd catch me dressing my boys in frou frou garb. They are boys afterall, not babies. And certainly not sissies. ..not that there's anything wrong with that.

There has been a permanent ban on Little Lord Fauntleroy clothing at Chez Dirt & Noise. There comes a time for every mother (I'm not excluding fathers, but let's face it, they would throw the kids in a paper sack with holes cut out for head and arms and call it a day), to come to grips with the fact their boy babies turn into big boys. Rambunctious, rough and tumble, BOYS. Moms need to stop shopping at stores like Mommas Boy Clothing once the kid can feed himself solid food with an utensil of any kind, fingers included. Let's be real, it is highly unlikely that I would ever shop at a store called Mommas Boy Clothing at all. Folks need to quit making this stuff larger than a size 2T, lest those boys get the snot kicked out of them when Momma's watchful eye strays.

Dressing Bird and Deal in traditional Easter attire would just make them look ridiculous, akin to the mother of a high school classmate I recall who wore mini skirts and anklets with spiky heels in 1985 because it was all the rage among teenage girls. She wore such a getup thinking she looked young and hip. In reality, she looked old and dreadful. Costumed, even. I am now as old as she was then, and you wouldn't catch me in any of the crap teenage girls are wearing these days. Another reason I'm glad to have sons! Those of you with daughters have uber fabulous options for Easter attire now, but wait until those girls want bling on their too tight shirts and cutesy words across their bottoms. Will someone please quash this trend?

Now the quandary is how to dress the boys appropriately for Easter photos without knee socks, saddle shoes, and a peter pan collar? Last year was freezing so we made do with madras pants and sweaters...I couldn't wrangle them into the white bucks I bought so those still sit anew in the closet. I'm going to cram their little (or not so little) feet into those shoes for a photo opp this year. At this rate, it might be the only Easter garb they wear.