If I had a daughter I would get to have better clothes.
Hear me out. I’m working through this new theory of mine.
See, the other day I was chatting with this lovely little bride-to-be about her upcoming nuptials. Scrolling through pictures of her dress (lots of lace, sexy low back; I loved it), discussing food, location etc. Purely out of self-interest — as I assume some day I will be the mother of the groom –
I asked what the mothers were wearing.”Oh, my mom is big into the fifties look.” She told me. “Cute fitted sheath dress, very sexy. She’s going to look great.”
”And the mother of the groom — please tell me she’s not wearing that short jacket over long dress look.”
(Sidenote: It’s probably just me but I really don’t love this look. But hey, if that’s your thing I’m not here to judge.
Except I bet you could find something better if you took me shopping and I helped you. Just sayin’.)
It turned out the mother of the groom was going with a more matronly look.
Something longer, something modest and conservative and . . . well, careful, which for some reason didn’t surprise me at all.
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Looking back at my own ill-fated wedding all those years ago, I remembered my mom. She and I picked out a sexy little navy dress with spaghetti straps and possibly even a sequin or two.
My mother in law, on the other hand, wore a modest dress with sensible hose.
And I can tell you from experience, normally she was not really a modest dress with sensible hose kinda gal.
She was a laugh riot. Now these are just two cases, of course.
And in the case of the lovely little bride-to-be I have never met either of these moms.
Maybe the mother of the groom is a modest gal. Or maybe there’s a little subconscious subterfuge going on there.
Either way it got me to wondering; Do moms of sons dim their light, so to speak, in deference to their boys?
Here’s an example — a few weeks ago I got dressed a little fancy to go to a meeting.
A pencil skirt, blouse, heels, that sort of thing. I was having a moment.
One of my sons who shall remain nameless looked up from the TV, frowned and said, “What’s with you?”
I looked down at my aforementioned pretty cute outfit. “What?”
”Aren’t you a bit too dressed up for some meeting? You look like you’re trying too hard.”
Now part of me wanted to run back upstairs and get changed back into my usual pant/sweater/boots combination.
But the rest of me thought (and said) this: “Actually, I like what I’m wearing. So mind your business.”
And for good measure I added, ‘Also vacuum the stairs while I’m out.’
That’s the thing about sons, and brace yourselves for a sweeping generalization here.
They love their moms as moms, but not so much as women.
They like our cooking and our warmth. They like that we love them so much.
They want to protect us from harm, hopefully take care of us in our dotage.
But seeing their moms as attractive women? Gross.
Which is fine. Normal and right, I would even say.
Unless it gets in the way of moms feeling attractive to the world at large and most importantly, themselves.
So I say this to all of you moms of sons out there — ignore them.
If you’re out there hiding your gorgeous self under loose shirts and old trousers for your sons, you’re doing yourself a disservice.
Remember all of those years when they wore the baggy jeans that hung down to their knees and you let them because self-expression is such an important part of human growth?
Exactly. Our sons are in no position to point fingers if you ask me.
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