(Kendrick says I look like a safari hunter here. I say safari hunters don’t wear stilettos.)
Around this point in the pregnancy when I was expecting Indy, I put up a post in which I was wearing snakeskin pants (that didn’t zipper, but whatever, that’s what rubber bands and long tops are for) and wrote about how weird it was that I was in the mood for snakeskin-pant-wearing at 8,352,592 months pregnant, but hey: great.
I wouldn’t have thought I’d be in the mood for heels and tiny clutches at this particular point either, but I am, so hey: great.
The thing is, our son has finally gotten to the age where he can more or less handle himself: he doesn’t need to be carried, he holds his own little backpack, he’s good at not spilling things. Which means that some of the wardrobe concessions that you just really have to make as a new mother (lower heels or flats because you may be hauling a toddler around; nothing that has to be dry-cleaned, ever, because that toddler may also be pouring juice on you) have faded away, and I’m back to being able to wear pretty much anything that I feel like wearing (and that fits, obviously).
I have approximately three and a half more weeks of this. So: silk blouses and heels and pea-sized bags that don’t fit even a single diaper and big hoop earrings that could easily be tugged on by little hands but aren’t being tugged on quite yet it is.
On Me: Steve Madden heels (available in lots of colors and on sale); Blouse ℅ NYDJ; Botkier clutch (currently on sale in a gorgeous mint shade); Hat Attack fedora; Forever 21 scarf; SOLD Denim Lab shorts via Nordstrom Rack; House of Harlow sunglasses; Voyage Pendant Necklace ℅ LAGOS (enter to win one of your own here).
