Thursday, January 13, 2011

Feeling a Bit Pegged Out

Thankfully in my little corner of the world the term 'Yummy Mummy' or whatever the equivalent in Catalan would be—mama deliciós according to google translate—hasn't surfaced it's pretty little quaffered head yet.  The trend is definitely 'Slummy Mummy' which is just fine with me, I absolutely rock the 'just rolled out of bed' look.  Never mind 'just stepped out of the salon', I much prefer the 'didn't have time to step into the shower' look and by and large it never raises an unplucked eyebrow.

There have been several occasions though when my appearance has brought about a chuckle amongst the collected Mamas and Iaias, remember the sunburnt cheeks back last February?  I may also have been known to wear odd shoes when collecting my son, being the 'Foreign Woman' does kind of let you off the hook with a lot of things, they probably think it's some bizarre English fashion to wear one green Birkenstock and one white one, I've done it so often they can't think it's a pure accident.  Maybe they think that we're really poor and that's why I've worn a skirt with a massive split up the back of it two days running.  Poor or a slut, I think I'd prefer the latter.

Yesterday however I managed to pull off a whole new look, brace yourselves for it being huge this spring/summer (ooh, can I be the first one to say SS11, like I know something about fashion....can I, can I?). I went to collect Joseph at lunchtime with pegs on my cardigan.  Not one but both of my cardigan lapels were sporting a plastic peg—one red, one yellow, dangling down like some sort of paper weight for clothes, to guard against the wind maybe?   I was oblivious to my trend-setting ways until I noticed a couple of the mama's puzzled faces looking in my direction, eventually Ferran's mama came over and discreetly tugged at one of the pegs, the yellow one if I remember rightly and quick as a flash I removed the offending items.  Of course the cardigan in question was without pockets so with cheeks burning scarlet I had to hold the pegs in my hand (because no self-respecting English mother leaves the house without her trusty duo of clothes pegs) until Joseph came skipping out of school, last as usual.

Pegs as clothes accessories—you heard it here first in fashionable Southern Catalonia, it's where it's all happening, or maybe not.