Cool factor: Zero

Abby told me this week that I have no fashion sense...she told me I dress like a mom.

What does that mean, exactly? 

Is it because I don't wear jeggings (or leggings of any sort, for that matter)?  Or is it because I don't wear skinny jeans?  Or big red earings?  Or headbands with sequins and feathers?  Is it because I don't own anything that is aquamarine or violet or lime green?  Is it because I don't have Justin Bieber's face plastered across my chest (let's face it, nobody's face needs to be plastered across my chest.  That is NOT the kind of advertising they want, I assure you). 

Is it because I wear cardigan sweaters and yoga pants (not usually, but sometimes, together)?  Is it because the color scheme in my closet can be summed up in two words: black and gray?  Is it because I have a giant pair of mom underwear that I use to hid my mom belly?  Is that it?  Is it? 

Oh, the horror.

If you need me, I'll be the mom lamenting her loss of style by self-medicating with a martini.  In my yoga pants.  And a probably a classy cardigan sweater.

Abby told me this week that I have no fashion sense...she told me I dress like a mom.

What does that mean, exactly? 

Is it because I don't wear jeggings (or leggings of any sort, for that matter)?  Or is it because I don't wear skinny jeans?  Or big red earings?  Or headbands with sequins and feathers?  Is it because I don't own anything that is aquamarine or violet or lime green?  Is it because I don't have Justin Bieber's face plastered across my chest (let's face it, nobody's face needs to be plastered across my chest.  That is NOT the kind of advertising they want, I assure you). 

Is it because I wear cardigan sweaters and yoga pants (not usually, but sometimes, together)?  Is it because the color scheme in my closet can be summed up in two words: black and gray?  Is it because I have a giant pair of mom underwear that I use to hid my mom belly?  Is that it?  Is it? 

Oh, the horror.

If you need me, I'll be the mom lamenting her loss of style by self-medicating with a martini.  In my yoga pants.  And a probably a classy cardigan sweater.