Mummy Daughter Days: Back to The Mothership, a.k.a Zara. The Power of Clothes, Now, Then and Always.


“If you can’t decide, BUY BOTH”
– Grandma. 

Adolescent Angela, bonding time with her Mother
Mummy Angela, bonding time with her daughter.
Body Positivity from a 5 year old. 

Me, in my head, every morning for the last 2 weeks: “I really need a new T-Shirt, maybe some jeans, or a shirt, something basic, JUST ANYTHING NEW JUST SOMETHING NEW”.
A victim of consumerism indeed I am. But also, I was simply becoming incredibly bored of the clothes I already owned. No shame in that. It doesn’t make me ungrateful. Should the desire arise to purchase something shiny and new and within your budget; one must listen to one’s wants and needs. One must also stop saying one. On with the story.

As a teenager, clothes shopping was my Mother’s way of treating me. We’d go into town a couple of times a month and look for bargains. I loved it. I look back and think “You couldn’t have taken me somewhere more enriching?! More educational?! More inspiring?!..”. (I can think of at least a dozen other activities that might have been more valuable for a young girl and her Mummy on a Saturday afternoon.)

But actually, looking at clothes was a joy for us both. Then, after all the hunting and gathering, we’d go for food some place cheap and awful like KFC. It was a bonding experience. I loved that time with my Mum. I loved seeing her face light up when she tried something on and liked it. I loved that it was just me and her, and yes, I freakin loved the clothes. I was probably a spoilt child and my mother’s mantra was “when you can’t decide, BUY BOTH”. It went down well.

Back to present day.

I hadn’t bought a new piece of clothing in a while.  (“A while” meaning a good three months, but that’s not relevant, it’s all subjective isn’t it.) After a brief pitt-stop in Tiger for one sequinned notebook  and some stickers (hallelujah), we went for food then to the Mothership, Zara,  for “Mummy’s Toys”.
“What are Mummy’s toys Mummy?”
“Clothes babe, Mummy will always have the most fun…messing around with clothes…”.

(It’s true, sometimes, when I’m down, I’ll go try on one of my favourite tight, black, F*** You dresses and remember…how much I love myself. It takes a little imagination but after a few minutes and a decent Spotify playlist, I’ve found my flow once more and my woes fade into the nothingness.)

We entered the fitting room, I proceeded to take my top off and before I’d even opened my mouth, out came the words:
“I love you Mummy, you’re not fat Mummy”.
“Where did you get that word Maia?”
“I don’t know Mummy I just wanted you to know you look beautiful.”
“Well, thank you, I love you too and so do you!”

Wasn’t sure whether to acknowledge the word or not. Fat is not a term I use all that often.
“Oh I am so bloated”
“Gees my jeans are tight AF”
But not fat. I let it slide. I wasn’t sure whether to thank her for her body-positivity or drop the topic altogether. Went for the latter. For now.

After a successful and remarkably stress-free few minutes in Zara (I walked away with three new basic Ts, an average win, but a win nonetheless) we went for Krispy Kremes.
Maia was given a balloon which made her very happy and I just sat there smiling/scoffing my donut. (Which I have to say, I will not be ordering again, I reckon I’ll go for the Original Glazed next time. My palette couldn’t cope with the chocolate-creamy-nightmare I traumatised it with).

All in all, one of those seemingly not-so-special, but actually really, really special couple of hours. 
Mum told me, when she put Maia to bed last night, that she said she’d had “The best day of her life with Mummy in town today”. 
Yes, I will agree this is a tad theatrical, both an overstatement and I am hoping not true. We’ve had WAY more exciting days out and way more fun just being silly at home. But I will take the sentiments and cherish them, because I know exactly what she meant. She meant her Mummy was truly there, with her, listening and laughing and being. – Not stressing or staring at a phone or just being a bit of a dick.
So actually, it’s right up there with one of my favourite Mummy daughter days.
I did good.
And to think, all because I wanted a new T-shirt.



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