Travel with a Fascinator.

This mummy duck is currently preparing to go on a travel adventure by herself, for the first time in about, ooo, 8 years. Will I remember what to do?
In the preparation for the trip I have definitely not remembered what to do, it has not being like riding a bicycle where it all comes flooding back. I used to be known as the queen of packing – able to stuff a backpack in half an hour, for six months of travel, across 20 different countries, with only two outfits and a toilet roll. Now, give me three days in the same country - in a city no less - with clothes shops and toilets you sit on, and it’s taken me all week and about 15 squillion clothes fashion parades for my mum and sister. And shoes! Don’t get me started on the shoes.

The other difference is my confidence. Once upon a time I whipped up a silver lamé mini skirt and threw it over my ‘billiard table legs’ to go out dancing that night without a care. This trip, with my best girlies from school, is going to require a bit of flash – nice restaurants, smart shopping precincts, a cocktail crawl, and the Melbourne Cup, no less! My work uniform of trackies and 10 year old Supre singlet tops will not suffice.

So I have been labouring over sewing a lace frock and constructing a fascinator for the last few weeks for the Race Day itself, between nappies, a teething baby, work, school pick ups, sickness and swimming lessons. I've gone with my gut instinct on what the trend is, but let's face it, my gut is no longer what it used to be, post children. 

After all this trend turmoil and neglecting my children due to myself, my bag is packed. With another FOUR dresses to wear besides the one I made. I used to be so confident in a bit of wacky dress sense, how is it that now I feel I’ve got it so wrong? I don’t want to do Mutton, but I no longer feel I can do Interesting.

Hmm, interesting.

So, let’s watch this space. And see if my spark comes back when there are no kids to fill my heart and head. Just ME to think about…. I don’t know how that feels anymore! Let you know next week.

A lesson in beauty for women like me.

“How do you care for a spray tan?" I ask, "Not wash?”

It was a genuine question but everyone thought it was hilarious and consequently I was still none the wiser. Made me realise I need to do a bit of research in current beauty for mummy’s of my, err, Genre. (That Genre being the Slightly Glamorous But Never Mutton-esque Woman With Kids Old Enough To Be At School. As opposed to telling you how old we are).

I can’t quite marry the fact that I used to be a beauty editor, advising people on what makeup colours were hot on the catwalks and which one was the best body shimmer, to the work I do now which involves the best texta remover from a two-year-old’s cheek bones, and the benefits of scrubbing Bolognese off your face properly with a damp washer as opposed to my trousers.

It was easy back in those days though: The concerns of my greater masses were getting the right amount of shimmer in your blue eye shadow (yes, it was crazily called eye shadow then, as opposed to eye mousse, shadow stick or -deep breath- “Impact 3D Illuminating 5 Colours for Sculpted Eyes”), or, my personal mission, how to get the BIGGEST hair. Yeah yeah.

So, what are the current concerns of a mummy duck in the Slightly Glamorous But Never Mutton-esque Woman With Kids Old Enough To Be At School Genre?

Obviously a spray tan to begin with. The Google Beauty Bible tells me you look after it by moisturising. Great, I do that already because I have a genuine fear of the saggy knee syndrome, so I’ll be ok on that front. Tick, spray tan knowledge up to date.

The next concern for our Genre is the face: Personality lines (because we don’t say wrinkles, Daddies), and those strange blobby brown marks we’ll call Genre (not Age) Spots. Now this I do know about. My best advice from personal experience here mummy’s is NOT BOTOX, and not a whitening product (it’s BLEACH!), and yes to a really moisturising moisturiser. You need one that makes your skin feel soft and supple all day long. (I should do infomercials). Moisturiser is like a high gloss laquer for the face - the gleam deflects the eye from the timber grain underneath. And the drier your skin, the more obvious the grain. I use Dermalogica Intense Moisture Balance right now but I’m a moisturiser whore, sharing myself across the brands.

Botox is an horrendously bad idea. Not only is it a mad cow disease thing you’re injecting into your face, but also at some point in your life you’ll have to give it up and the personality lines will come smashing into your face making it look like a cranial earthquake just cracked it all up. Best it happens gradually, that way no one will notice, I promise.

Other issues for our Genre are obviously working out what to do with the body decimated by childbirth. It’s just not a good design/concept/functional idea, never has been. Men should do it - their below bits already stick out - ours are inny's and they should be allowed to stay that way.  And manboobs look like they've done years of breastfeeding regardless of if they have or not. Anyway, on this topic I throw my hands in the air (making sure the chook wings don’t knock over my six year-old). I’m still waiting on that manual called How to Put Everything Back IN That Now Sticks Out, Post Pregnancy and Birth.