So much starts with the shoes.
My Heidi is catching on:
She can't believe her luck. What are those cool things? You have no idea baby how many great shoes there are out there.
And this is how they will make you feel:
Welcome to the Big Girl world.
Somewhat related, thanks to that miracle that is eBay, these arrived in the mailbox for me today. I could not be more pleased:
Side story: Now you know sometimes I get nervous because my husband sort of thinks he can do-it yourself anything. Well, I had a dream a few days ago. I was in for my pre-op and when they went to write me up I had to tell them that actually my husband had removed my uterus already with the skillful use of a ballpoint pen. I told him this and he said that was completely crazy, he hasn't even read the manual.
So back to me not having much to do about my surgery except dress for it. In real life being done by a 12 year old surgeon, but then again kids are smarter these days.
It's a funny thing getting ready to be in hospital.
Your average nightgown, slippers and housecoat are meant for bedrooms not people's place of business, and then too you can end up with relatives coming to see you, sitting next to your bed talking, and reading the paper. That doesn't usually happen in your own bedroom.
So you sort of have to come up with what you would wear to bed if your bed were in a department store window.
Which of course led in a direct line to me ordering in some mocs as my department store window slippers. I was also an excuse because I totally love moccasins. I have always felt they speak deeply to my inner sense of style which has heavy undertones of domestic 1950's.
In addition I bought a nightgown covered with mini maps of Florida which I feel is another step in the right direction.
I generally don't look that hot after surgery. I was also considering permanent make-up, you know eyeliner tattooed on, until my husband did a search and told me you aren't supposed to get a tattoo before surgery.
This is really too bad.
I had an appointment at a place called The Electric Chair because I had an idea that I should also get my children's initials tattooed on a finger so at least some part of my body still documented that they were here.
So in the end my daughter had to go alone to have the girls's initials put on her finger. It looks great, so as soon as I can drive post-op it's going to be off to the tattoo parlour I go.
Style being a verb.