Today at work I casually picked up a fashion magazine and started paging through its silky covers.. I was gob smacked at the ridiculousness of what I read. Firstly, I gawked at the fashion pages in disbelief – these pages were labeled “colour pop” and “cowgirl couture” and “tribal goes neon” and every item was just ghastly! Is this what the trendy people were wearing? Then I turned to some of the articles: “meet the woman addicted to sex” and “how to walk tall, get that raise and climb that corporate ladder” – where in the world do the people who read these magazines come from? Planet Utopia? And then, like a slap in the face with a wet fish, it hit me.. The more I read, the more I realized how far removed I was from life outside of Momville. A parallel universe where people dressed for pleasure and to feel good about themselves, and not just to cover up fat rolls left over from childbirth. A world where people enjoyed sex, to the point of addiction, and didn’t just use it as a reward for doing child related chores. A world where a woman could spend hours agonizing over a menu for a cocktail party she was hosting, instead of calling Mr Delivery to deal with the catering. Where in the world is this place?
My husband thinks I am a yummy mummy, he tells me so all the time, but the truth is, I am NOT! Apparently yummy mummies are “colour blocking” their outfits and wearing heels everyday and it’s their au pairs who wear tracksuit pants with food stains. If this particular magazine is to be believed, yummy mummies spend time at the salon getting their hair and nails done while the kids play quietly at their moms’ feet. Yummy mummies go to the gym at least four times a week (the international recommended standard) and do all those fancy exercises.. like cardio vascular thingamabobs or weight resistance or Pilates or rumba/zumba/WHATEVER!! They don’t eat junk food and they NEVER EVER feed their families anything other than a gourmet meal prepared by yours truly. Rumour has it, that they never get headaches and are always up for IT. So no, I am definitely not a yummy mummy!
Are these magazines created to make women feel like complete losers? Am I the only one who finds it all so plastic and superficial? I am all for improving myself and feeling motivated enough to make a change in my life.. but I just feel like an absolute chop after tearing through this magazine. It appears that unless you can apply eye shadow like that weird looking man on the Style Network and you have a walk-in closet like Kimora Lee Simmons, then you my daahhling are considered a plebeian.
Nonetheless, I do aspire to yummy-mummy-ness. One day. One day when my kids don’t use my clothing as a dish rag for their dirty hands and snotty noses, when I have time to turn this jelly in my thighs into a hard mass of bulging muscle, when I have the energy to sit at a salon, without falling asleep and publicly drooling while sitting under the hair dryer. One day when my husband says “here babe, use the grocery money for a complete makeover, and we’ll survive on manna from heaven this month.”
One day, without the help of a fashion magazine – because I am not chasing that synthetic look – I will transform this mound of fleshy, pulpous leftover baby fatness into a lean, mean yummy mummy machine! Dadadadaaaaaaa!