Scrunchie Lovers Unite!

fucked up now!2

I understand the cycle that is fashion.  I love fashion though happily admit that I am not a slave to it.  Since I don’t have a bank account as big as Jessica Simpson’s or that of Taylor Swift, I try to buy lots of timeless basics and then pick up a trendy piece here and there.

Usually when something becomes popular there is a four step process to its lifespan:

  • Part 1-It is the height of fashion and everyone is rocking the look.
  • Part 2-It is on the decline but a few die hard lovers are holding out and still wearing it.
  • Part 3-Now wearing this item has become something to ridicule and those unfortunate people who refuse to give it up are the butt of bad jokes.
  • Part 4-What’s old is new again, just reinvented with a new twist.

A perfect example of this 4 Part Lifespan would be bell bottom jeans.

  • Early 70’s:  Hey, cool jeans.
  • Late 70’s:    Are you still wearing those?
  • Any time in the 80’s:  Like, gag me with a spoon!  Who is the moron wearing bell bottoms?

Then came the year 2000, and moms everywhere were throwing away their mom jeans after being humiliated on Saturday Night Live.  But what were they to replace them with.  After all, they were moms and “tapered leg” jeans did not flatter most moms.

And then it happened!  Someone somewhere in the world realized that curvy women looked really freaking awesome in curvy jeans, and suddenly bell bottoms were reborn as The Boot Cut Jean.

I personally love my boot cut jeans, even though they are now on Part 2 of the fashion lifespan.  I am still carrying some baby weight and I’m not ready to give them up just yet.  Okay, so the baby is five years old, what’s your point! hillary2

But, this post is about scrunchies, and my deep love for scrunchies.  They were really popular in the 80’s and 90’s, but like bell bottoms they eventually reached Part 3 Joke Level.  Hilary Clinton wore a scrunchie and it literally made the front page of most national news agencies.  Oh the horror!  Oh the humanity!  What the hell was she thinking?  How could she have committed such a fashion faux pas?

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But it is time for the scrunchie to be reborn.  I love my scrunchies.  I never wear them out of the house for fear of committing the same faux pas that Hilary made in public, but secretly, in the privacy of my own home…I rock my scrunchie.

Back in the day I had them in every color.  They were my go to hair item.  It was easy to match whatever color outfit I was wearing.  I had extra large fluffy black and white silky ones for dressing up (Hey, stop laughing.  Yes there used to be dressy scrunchies damn it!  And they were cool.  And bitch they looked fabulous!!) .

On a hot day there was nothing more practical than a scrunchie.  Having a bad hair day, throw it up in a scrunchie.  Up all night with a screaming infant and hadn’t washed your hair in three days, scrunchie to the rescue.

Scrunchies were versatile.  You could wear a high ponytail, a low ponytail, a side ponytail, or use it to tie your hair up in a top knot.  The best part of scrunchies was that they were gentle to you hair!  Rubber bands and hair bands all put that not so lovely kink in your hair, which means if you are out in public you can’t take your hair down.  Scrunchies, however, were too soft to kink up your hair.  And then when it was time to let your hair down your fluffy scrunchie went around your wrist and became an instant bracelet.

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Women everywhere, I am asking you to go to your bathroom today, right now, this very minute, and dig out that old scrunchie.  Don’t act like you don’t have one hiding in your bathroom.  You know you do.  If nothing else you use it each night to pull your hair back so you can wash off your make-up.  Go get it and wear it with pride.  Head straight to the mall and show the world your scrunchie love!

Share the love down below in the comments.  What fashion trend are you waiting for anxiously to be reborn?

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Don’t You Just Love Being Pregnant? Uh, NO!

throw up

Mommies love to talk.  Get a group of mommies together in a room and we will talk for hours.  We talk about c-section or vaginal birth.  We compare delivery stories and try to one up each other on whose was worse.  Always there is the breast or bottle debate and the “to work or not to work” debate.  Next will come the stories of how long it took for everyone’s baby to start sleeping through the night.  Eventually the conversation will turn to poop, snot and barf.  Retelling stories of your child’s last bout of stomach flu will get all the other mommies talking about their pooping/barfing nightmares.

All the topics mentioned above make perfect sense to me and I have participated in all of them multiple times.  But there is one topic that makes no sense to me.  There will always be one mommy to announce that she just loved being pregnant and that it felt wonderful to know there was a new life growing inside of her.

I’m sorry, but I have to call bullshit when I hear women say this.  I know not all women experience the same kind of pregnancies, and some are easier than others, but the truth is there are many parts of being pregnant that totally suck!

I have been pregnant twice.  Twice was enough.  The first time was awful for reasons beyond just carrying a baby inside me.  The second time around I had a textbook perfect pregnancy, and I can honestly say that I do NOT love being pregnant.  I love the end result of pregnancy, holding that wonderful little baby in my arms, breathing in that baby smell, and feeling my heart fill with a love so strong that words fail to describe.  But the nine months it takes to reach that point, ugh.

The first three months my hormones went berserk.  I was weepy and whiny, constantly tired, and if I became even slightly hungry I immediately felt nauseous.    Plus, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, I needed to pee every half an hour even though the baby was the size of pea.

The second trimester you feel better, but you wardrobe looks horrible.  You are now too fat to fit your regular clothes, but your baby bump isn’t big enough to make you look pregnant, just fat.  Plus, maternity clothes are too big still.  So now you have to go buy a few pieces of “fat” clothing to see you through till you can wear the maternity stuff.  Plus, that lovely glow people say you have really isn’t a glow, but a flushed face and sweat because by month five or six you always feel hot.

The final three months brings unbearable heart burn and acid reflux, belching and passing gas, and you feel like a whale.  You can no longer tie your own shoes so you wear only slip-ons.  You also lose the ability to “groom” certain areas of your body forcing you into a rather hairy situation, if you know what I mean.  Sleep becomes almost impossible as no position is comfortable anymore, and now with the baby lying on your bladder you get up to pee five or six times a night anyway.

The only thing I really enjoyed about being pregnant was feeling my boys kick or have the hiccups.  But even that became uncomfortable by month eight when those light little flutters turned into painful kicks to the ribs.  My second child actually fractured a couple of them he kicked so hard!

I love both my boys and they were worth the discomfort, but believe me, I will not hesitate to use the “I carried you for nine grueling months and this is how you repay me,” speech if the time ever comes!

Share your pregnancy stories below; the good, the bad, the ugly!
~Tina

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