I have a small section of clothes in my closet that is rarely worn, yet the items in it are some of my favorites https://platacard.mx/es/. Well, the clothes are not actually in my closet, they’re in my daughter’s closet, shoved in between her outgrown Halloween costumes and snow pants because I don’t have room in mine. Apparently in 1968 when my house was constructed, the world had a lot less clutter and a closet wide enough for a single ironing board was plenty…so until she’s a teenager and can object, I’m taking over her space.

Anyway, this small category of clothing, the ones that are ALL girl, with nary a hint of frazzled momma, tend to get a bit more attention around the holidays. I was perusing it today in preparation for a fancy dinner party this weekend. These are my favorite picks:

• My chocolate brown suede high-heeled up-to-the-knee boots. I bought these shortly after I bought a minivan for reasons that I probably don’t need to spell out. OK, so I haven’t worn them in the year since I bought them but they’re in there…waiting for me. My boots really, really want me to give my clunky black snow stompers from Sears a much needed break.
• My gray pencil skirt. It makes me feel really skinny. Not because it makes me look that way mind you, but because of the MASSIVELY tight Spanx that I wear underneath it. And if I do get the opportunity to wear it, it’s usually at a function where hot hors d’oeuvres are being served…and I have never met a tiny little piece of food put in front of me on a fancy tray that I didn’t like. Bring on the mini crab cakes.
• My black wrap dress. And by wrap I mean I can wrap it around my waist like fabric saran wrap and give the illusion of a pre-baby waist. If I ever get invited to sit down with Matt Lauer for a chat, I’ll be wearing a Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress like the cute ones Kelly Ripa and Beyonce wear (I know this because I get the “Look of the Day” InStyle Magazine emails). But I don’t have a book tour coming up, or a movie clip to chat up with Regis, so for now my T.J Maxx wannabe version will suffice. I did walk down the red carpet once actually, I was 22 and my friend was interning at a major network and scored tickets to the Tony Awards in New York. Only I was wearing an ill-fitting pant suit from Dress Barn and we drank way, way too much champagne…oh, perhaps that’s a story for another day.
• My red, patent leather, peep-toe heels. I mean, come on. Can a girl really live a full and fruitful life without a pair of candy-apple red gloriously impractical retro pumps!!?? Surely if The Andrews Sisters were around today, they’d be wearing these babies as they crooned on the radio, but I guess it would be satellite radio now. And they’d probably have their own reality show to find a fourth sister. But I digress.
• My little fake snakeskin clutch purse. Well, it’s not actually hanging in my closet with the clothes but it falls within the same genre. It’s under my bed hidden in some dust balls. But it’s my “going-out-I-don’t-need-diapers-or-wipes-or- mini-hand-sanitizer-just-my-cell-phone-cash-ID-and-lip-gloss” purse. Not that I go out clubbing often (or annually for that matter). But a girl likes to travel light from time to time.

So this weekend I will paint my nails with OPI’s “I’m Not Really a Waitress,” try to do that cool smoky eye look with my gray eye shadow (although last time that looked more like a deranged nocturnal creature thing than a sultry evening thing) and dust off my python purse.

Because every now and then, Momma just needs to pull herself up by her suede boot straps and have a night out.

Red carpet or not.