My mom hates my gay socks


These are my rainbow “diversity” socks. Aka, my gay pride socks. And I love them!!!

You may be wondering why on earth would I name my blog post, “My mom hates my gay socks”? Well, I will get to that. But to build up to such a interesting title, I will need to give you some background first.

I have mommy issues…. Doesn’t every grown woman? Probably started in high school, as many mommy issues start. I love my mom to death. We are very similar and yet very different. We are both artists, dancers, lovers of gardening, charismatic, and huge drama queens who love attention. But while her artistic style is more vintage/retro, mine is more spiritual/natural. We are both belly dancers. But while she is a glittery cabaret dancer, I am more an earthy tribal style dancer. She is pretty much a diva. She walks into a room and owns it. She is always put together. Make-up, hair, fashion, shoes, everything.

Then there is me…. long pause…. I blame it on the “Rebellion of 1994”. When every teenage girl claims she will never be like her mother. And I think it has subconsciously never gone away.

She told me the other day, and I quote, “I will tell you something my mother told me and now I will tell you. If you don’t look good for your husband at the end of the day, after he has been around a bunch of professional well put together women, he could be led astray”.

WTF does that mean? I am sorry but if my husband ever cheated on me because I look like a hag when he comes home from work, there are some larger issues going on. And who doesn’t look hideous after a day of chasing around 2 little kids? And who needs to look fabulous dropping their kid off at school or grocery shopping? Not me!!!!

(Note, this is exactly why I am blogging anonymously. And if my mom ever were to read this, I write this with love mom!)

If it was up to my mother, I would be on What Not To Wear in a heartbeat.

I told my husband this story and he laughed his ass off. The same husband who I have been with since I was 14 years old. The same husband who lives in sweats and a t-shirt unless he is going out. What if I am led astray from the hot professional men when I go to work 3 days a week? All because my husband isn’t “put together” when he’s at home. Shouldn’t he be worried about that?

Ok, I have to admit, I pretty much live in 2 pairs of jeans, yoga pants, some cotton skirts, bright colors hoodies, solid colored fitted t-shirts, and either flip flops or Vans shoes. But hey, I live in a hippy surf town. What can I say? I put on make-up 3 days a week when I go to work. However if my hair doesn’t look good when I wake in the morning, I will wear a hat vs styling it. I have diapers to change and lunches to make.

The other part of me pleading my case and feeling extremely defensive about all this, is that I don’t feel like spending money on myself for clothing. Shopping for clothes is not fun for me. I do it out of necessity. Because, you can only wear clothes for so long. Eventually you will get tired of looking at the same spit up stain, or you can’t hide the holes anymore by tucking them into your pants. And with 2 young children, I enjoy spending the little extra money I have on them. Swim lessons, new underwear, new shoes that fit well, etc. I guess I just feel as though I get more enjoyment out of spending money on them than myself. Someday that will change, I am sure.

OK, to get to my “gay socks”. I have this rockin’ pair of rainbow knee-high socks. I normally only wear them under long skirts or around the house. I call them my “gay pride” socks. I love anything to do with rainbows. I love gay people. I love anything having to do with promoting equal rights for all. And knowing my mother just hates my fashion sense combine with anything supporting gay pride, I decided to wear them when we were together and flaunt them around.

“Look at my gay pride socks, mom. Don’t you love them? I am celebrating diversity!”

Yep, her and I share another thing in common. We are both pros at the art of passive aggression.

Stay tuned for more posts on mommy issues. Oh yeah, we have more to come.