I became a mother for the first time in March of 2004, on my husband’s birthday. In addition to being a dead ringer for his father, Z was everything that I had ever wanted, and I was complete – or was I? With the entrance of this new little life, I realized that slowly but surely pieces of myself were slipping away; I began to notice the small stuff. It appeared that one of the many things to take a back seat to a newborn was a regard for personal hygiene. A daily shower was now a huge feat followed up by a feeling of accomplishment. Since when was ‘shower’ part of my ‘To Do’ list? It was becoming clear that the things I once took for granted were becoming luxuries – things like fashion.

This came to my attention on a particularly low day, when I noticed it had become almost second nature to wipe my hands on my clothes. I began to take a mental inventory of how many ‘cool cards’ I was left holding – not many. In fact I would shortly be forty, I drove a Volvo, I listened to KCRW (touted as ‘music for aging hipsters’) and apparently now I wipe my hands on my shirt.

Before I became a mother, I was an integral part of the work force for over ten years as a wardrobe stylist. I chose the outfits for television actors, celebrities, editorial shoots, bands, and solo artists. I’ve witnessed two hardcore male singers having a heated argument about which one was going to wear ‘the plain black t-shirt.’ Record labels and production companies used to hire me because they valued my eye, opinion and fashion sense. The most recent questions regarding what I thought now centered around how best to coerce Z into burping and pooping, neither of which he did regularly.

When he was 23 months old (that’s parent speak for ‘two’) I had a serious accident. I was also just eight weeks pregnant with his surprise younger sibling. I took a random fall on a sidewalk, dropped Z on his head (he’s fine, thank God) and subsequently managed to shatter my left tibia and fibula vertically. Aside from the fact that I was sure I would pass out, I still thought it would just  be one of those scenarios where I’d get a cute pink cast, and spend a few weeks ‘sipping Grand Marnier in the lodge.’ Instead I found myself in the midst of a surgery – awake – while a machine called a ‘reamer’ (aptly named) shoved a rod into my leg. Little did I know that I was embarking upon a two and a half year ride – one that would include learning to walk again – that would profoundly change me and my family in ways that I could not even begin to imagine.

One of which is why I’m here now. A year and a half in bed buys you some computer time, amongst other things. Z was joined through some act of God by his healthy baby brother R. Since I was physically unable to shop for my boys, I did everything online. One day prior to my accident, I had Googled ‘cool, hip, baby, clothes’ and up it came – UrbanBaby.com. For those of you unfamiliar with ‘UB’ let’s just say it’s a fast moving and often hardcore parenting board, that isn’t for the faint of heart. The threads run the gamut from ‘I’m having an affair. Questions?’ to ‘What kind of dress should I wear to a daytime wedding in June?’

I began to answer more frequently the threads on fashion. There were so many questions on topics that I realized women really needed help with. Hose or no hose? What is the best cut dress for a pear shaped body? Where can I shop for fashionable clothes that won’t cost a fortune? What are the hottest jeans? I had the answers – most of the time. I realized that I had found a venue with which I could put my knowledge to use – all without having to leave the comfort (or in this case, discomfort) of my bed. Here were a group of women not unlike myself, who since becoming mothers didn’t have the time, money or resources for fashion.

Z and R are a bit older now, and R  has started pre-school full time (*SNIFF*). L.A. Stylist Mom (incidentally a moniker appointed by UB) 2.0 is finally a reality, and I’ve found that it has re-connected me with a part of myself that I didn’t even know I missed. Although I’m no longer ‘on set,’ I still possess a keen eye and a passion for bargain shopping that doesn’t appear to be bargain shopping. I will be honest about what looks good and what does not. I know what to accent and what to camouflage. In short I have found that I am in fact still a stylist, just for another demographic, one of which I have now become a part.

I hope that the knowledge that I am here to share is helpful (albeit not brain surgery), as I so truly enjoy doing it. I hope that you’ll join me in my quest to venture beyond UGGs and Crocs once and for all, because I truly believe that even though we’re moms, we’ve all got a couple of ‘cool cards’ left!

LASM