Image

The other day (Wednesday, to be exact) a friend called me up and told me JCPenney's had a good sale on baby clothes (like $3 an outfit/piece kind of good sale). So, I dragged my unwashed self to the mall, bedecked in maternity pants and an orange button-down shirt that could probably best be described as vaguely feminine. I managed to park at the opposite end of the mall from JCP's (and pay $2 for the privilege--grr) which gave me ample opportunity to people watch as I walked through the open-air mall. The vast majority of the women I walked past were dressed very stylishly, which is to say, in tight, form-fitting, often expensive clothing. They were young and sexy.

As I walked toward JCP's, I admit, I looked down on those attractive women, just a bit. At least, I rolled my eyes at the effort and the resources they spent on looking so attractive, apparently mostly for the benefit of the other women roving the stores and the few slobby guys slouching around in gawky, awkward packs. Sure, I could appreciate the beauty of the women around me, but it all seemed so superficial, so silly to waste so much time and energy, especially as a woman with a small, rather time-consuming baby. I admit, I felt a little smug in my functional unattractiveness; felt celebratory about my misshapen midsection that, after all, had housed an entire baby not two months ago.

Then, I spent an hour shopping. In JCPenney's.

JCP's isn't exactly the hippest store. I associate it with relatively inexpensive, relatively conservative clothing preferred by women older than me. That's not a great characterization any more--they'd hardly be in business if they didn't have some cool clothes--but they are a place that still carries stretch-waisted jeans. After pouring through the women's and junior's clothing sections I realised the only pants that fit me would be the stretch-waist jeans.

Walking back to my car I looked at the beautiful women around me with envy. I wanted to be sexy like them, not thick in the middle with a baby-ravaged body. I don't think that's a great thing. I am quite understandably out of shape right now and I shouldn't feel bad about the way I look, yet even a little exposure to the images and messages about how I should look left me, 33-year-old, mother of two, smart, accomplished, and generally quite happy with my body, feeling inadequate. Because, less than two months after having a baby, I don't look young and fit and sexy. I can't imagine being a teen today. I know, we old people are always saying the world is going to hell in a hand basket, but the sexualization of media images, and of women and children is a documented trend. But oh, man, I worry about my children and how to teach them to look at themselves and the people around them when I can't do it myself. Sure, there are strategies to fight back, but they all sound so inadequate, especially since I, apparently, haven't really absorbed the message myself.

Couple of programs

Yesterday I was listening to Morning Edition on NPR and heard this story that features an LDS couple who avoided the financial crisis because their "faith encouraged them to be financially responsible." I thought it was an interesting story, and a good plug for following the prophet.

For those interested in the history of childbirth, this story on Radio West highlights Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth from the Garden of Eden to the Sperm Bank. It's fascinating that women have been worried about the "right" way to give birth for centuries. The description of twilight sleep was particularly interesting to me. My husband's grandmother, I think, used the combination of morphine and scopolamine to induce twilight sleep. Even so, the experience was apparently bad enough she only gave birth once.

Jumper

When I was a little girl I remember loving to watch the Miss America pageant. In fact, the opening scene in Little Miss Sunshine, where Olive is watching the pageant and rehearsing the signature wave is a disturbingly nostalgic moment for me to watch. I, too, wanted to win a pageant and be a Beauty Queen when I was a little girl. But much like Olive, I didn't have what it took, even if I'd had the support of a druggie grandfather and absent-minded parents. By the time I was a pre-teen I'd figured out that I would never be tall enough or beautiful enough to be a beauty queen and turned my efforts to other pursuits.

That said, I still like to watch sometimes. It's fun to see beautiful women competing to see who is the most beautiful (whatever that really means). I really wish I had TV this season, though, to watch the TLC's Miss America: Reality check. I'm glad the pageant organizers aren't taking it too seriously. Of course, there are some who aren't happy about the satire, like Lois Elaine Smith-Zoll.

"I want them to be professional ladies," said Lois Elaine Smith-Zoll, a 70-year-old pageant volunteer from Vancouver, Washington, with 41 years of judging behind her. "They are mocking the old system. This young woman is going to represent our country, we want to be proud of her."

I can understand the desire to want the contestants to be ladies, and I am definitely glad that they take the position of role-model seriously. Really, though, if you want these young women to remain relevant to the tweens and teens of today, you're going to have to make them hip and cool, and a little more edgy. Decorum is great, but the young women of today need someone they'd like to hang out with, not just admire from a distance.

She wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie...

Okay, so it's not yellow polka dot (it's blue), but I bought my first bikini last night. Target had a bunch on clearance, and I decided I'd like a new bathing suit since Derrick's going to take me to Greece in October. The last swimsuit I bought was a blue plaid I bought from (C)Ross Dress for Less while I was at tech, so it's pretty old. Still in good condition, but old. This one was less than $10 for both pieces (yeah clearance!), so I spent about $21 for the swimsuit, 35 lb of cat litter, and a pack of gum.

I've never had a bikini before--growing up Mormon, two-piece swimsuits in general were pretty well outlawed, and even once I stopped going to church in college I was pretty self-conscious about my appearance. I'm short, and short-waisted to boot, so I've had a belly ever since adolescence, even when I was really skinny. I'm to a point now where I'm not sure I care anymore. Not that I'm proud of my little belly pooch, but I'm kind of realizing this is the best my body is probably ever going to look and I shouldn't be ashamed of it.

Oh, and in potentially good sea monkies news, my Dunaliella cultures arrived, so I can start growing labeled food for my calibration experiment. At least, as long as the cultures survived. There was a bit of a miscommunication and I didn't realize the cultures had been mailed to me, so they've been sitting in my warm, dark mailbox for the last week. Oops! Hope they survive...