Lately, one of my main goals…other than becoming a better person, to stop talking so much, start caring about politics (HA), and refrain from speaking about things and people I actually know little about…is to avoid looking like a frump.
Yes, a frump.
It’s a pretty good word. It’s one of those words I got from my mother. When Andrea (who you should know by now is my one and only sister) and I lived at home, my mom would get all dressed and then ask, “Does this make me look frumpy?” And if she did, we knew exactly how to de-frump-ify her.
Frumpy is such a choice word because it describes EXACTLY what you want it to. Hair can be frumpy, and outfit can be frumpy, a person can be a frump. Use it as a noun! Use it adjective! You can be frumpilicious, frumptastic, and frumpdiddlyumptious.
Dowdy doesn’t cut it, sloppy is too harsh, and mom-ish, well that’s just insulting to all those stylish moms out there. But frump? It’s just right. Frump implies a bit of stooped posture, an unflattering fit, and an overall feeling of defeat. Frumpy isn’t just physical, it’s mental too. Which means frumpy is a state of mind. One that you must overcome…and when gaining uncontrollable amounts of weight and growing out of pants every other week…constantly battle to avoid at all times.
I think my impending frumpiness is a combination of a lot of things. I’ve been married for a while, which means I have less exposure to the outside world and more exposure to a husband who wears camo cargo shorts from Wal-Mart. This is probably skewing my reality in ways I can’t comprehend! I also work at BYU, and though I do work with some stylish people, well, it’s still BYU, perhaps it’s seeping into my pores? I don’t have money to go shopping, I need to buy a crib and stuff like that! And I might have just spent a lot of hours devoted to a tacky TV show shot in the early 2000’s, on which all of the characters dress HORRIBLY. Say it with me now, “WILDFIRE!”
Oh, and there’s the fact I look like I’m carrying a pillow under my shirt…and on my hips, and my butt, and let’s not even get started on my boobs.
Yes for those, and many other reasons, the frump is hot on my trail.
And I really don’t have a huge solution to the problem, other than I’m just gonna’ run (or waddle) like hell.
Anyway. My baby is doing acrobats and being adorable. And I guess that’s what matters most. But sometimes it’s hard not to just want to give up and surrender to the power of the frump.
Together we must all stay strong!
Anyway, I hope you all are having a wonderful week. Enjoying lots of soccer, or bad ABC family series, and all the fabulous weather.
Maybe by next post I’ll have a solution…
But until then, may the frump NOT be with you…as it is with me.