As I sit in class pondering the nuances of 19th and 20th century social theory and how it relates to contemporary PR my mind invariably begins to wander onto thoughts of the kids. When the discussion moves to the finer points of Marx's treatise on communism and his work dissecting materialism and the political economy I indulge in a reverie about materialism in my own life, namely my obsession with baby clothes.
Yes, I can finally put my hand up and admit it. I have a problem. Not so much an addiction (though some might class it as such) more of an obsessive habit. But I blame society. Or maybe biology. Whichever external force dictates that a woman of a certain age should chuck in her job and have a baby. I mean what was I supposed to do on all those long days at home alone with a new baby but shop? Does a one-year-old boy really need a designer tweed coat (albeit heavily discounted)? Probably not. Did mine have one? Yes he did.
It's a strange adjustment to make going from being a career focused woman of independent means to becoming the full-time mum of a small infant and there's very little that can prepare you for it. Suddenly life as you know it empties and all that's left is this helpless, all-consuming, wondrous little being filling up your days.
And if your self worth came from your erstwhile career then bad luck as the adjustment will be doubly hard cause now you've got a baby, people will judge you for your choices. If you stay at home and look after said baby then somehow you're anti-feminism; your independence goes out the window and you become reliant on others, in my case my husband, for financial support. On the flip side if you go straight back to work then you're pilloried as a neglectful mother and have to deal with the guilt of abandoning your offspring to child care from an early age.
There are no winners in this game not least because of the guilt and pressure we place on ourselves and our own hang ups about what a woman's role should be. The first time I had to write 'unemployed' on an official form asking for my occupation I felt a deep sense of inadequacy, though that was infinitely preferable to labelling myself a 'housewife' or the more cringeworthy 'home-maker' which for me was too great a leap. I no longer felt like a fully-functioning member of society, a bit of a wastrel, unable to contribute or pay taxes. Frankly I found it disempowering.
So there I was, some kind of desperate housewife (and not the hot, rich kind you see on the telly) keening for the loss of a career that never was, struggling with my newfound identity and needing a creative outlet. And in front of me my child, my muse, my new raison d'être and an unwitting participant in my most recent pursuit. A mini clothes horse to be primped and preened and manipulated into the latest in Scandinavian baby chic. And for what? To fill a hole, relieve boredom? Who knows?
Of course being an unemployed student puts a serious dent in any ambitions I may have to turn my children into miniature fashionistas and as a result most of my activity is limited to online window shopping. It's a sad fact that I can spend hours poring over the websites for purveyors of stylish baby clothes, coveting things that I a.) cannot afford and b.) possess sufficient sentience to know there's no point spending large amounts of money on as a baby has little to no use for statement pieces in their wardrobes that they will no doubt grow out of within a couple of months. To that end I now have a Pinterest board that I use to propagate my obsession instead. And I have two followers (which is more than can be said of this blog and my twitter account combined). And one of them isn't my mum! That must make me some kind of opinion leader in the baby fashion stakes? If my career in PR falls through I'm seriously thinking of becoming a baby stylist. Surely there's a market for it!?!
There's no denying it, I'm hooked. I'll probably continue to scour the websites until I am gainfully employed once again and it's unlikely I'll ever pass by a baby shop without wanting to go in. But there are worse addictions to have and at least I'm not acting on my urges to spend. Well, not all the time anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment