The third trimester isn’t exactly the most glamorous time in a woman’s life.
I mean, what with the inability to drink-your-stilettos-comfortable and the reality of a beach ball protruding from your front….quiet evenings at home watching old episodes of “Friday Night Lights” are far preferred to big nights on the town.
Accordingly, I have been wearing an awful lot of soft clothes lately. ((full disclosure: soft clothes is just a nice way of saying lounge clothes. scrub clothes. er, pajamas))
My date-night-IN uniform of choice? Yoga Pants. Tissue T’s and one of Simon’s Hoodies. And you know what is not all that attractive? Yoga Pants. Tissue T’s and one of your husband’s hoodies.
but I’m lucky, really I am….Husb seems to think I am adorable when wearing his clothes and a messy ponytail. I know this because he tells me so nightly but I can’t help but wonder if he really means it (for the sake of my sanity…let’s pretend he does)
However, on Saturday, Simon had planned a special night out for my birthday (L20! read review here) and I decided that was a perfect excuse to primp. non-pregnant style.
I decided to make a day of it:
Fruit Salad for Breakfast. To Equinox for a solid
run walk and some arm weights. Up next: I headed over to CUSP and picked out a new non-maternity dress (with just enough room to accommodate my bump while showing off my new-found cleavage). And then a field trip to Lush for some BIG Shampoo, Buffy Body Scrub and my miracle mask, Brazen Honey. I stopped for a mani/pedi on my way home and then spent a couple of hours just getting ready.
Big Hair c/o a round brush, velcro rollers and some serious volumizing spray.
Crest White Strips for a beaming smile.
Ample time to apply make-up properly: smoky eyes, lined nude lips and shimmery bronzed finish for my cheeks.
It was the first time in months I actually felt glamorous.
To anyone I passed on the street Saturday night, I am sure I looked no different than I usually do… but it was really just so fun, so energizing to feel put-together again. I didn’t actually snap any pictures of my final “look” because I spent so long getting ready that I ran out of time for an in-closet photo shoot, but the reality of my outfit was far less important than how it made me feel. I don’t think it is a coincidence that Saturday was one of the best nights out I have had in a really long time.
I certainly don’t write this post to say “oh hey, I am a supermodel”…or to suggest that confidence should come from anywhere other than within,
rather, I publish this as a reminder (to myself):
Never ever ever underestimate the power of a little bit of primping!