If one thing has changed since I entered the wonderful world of motherhood, (I mean besides my waist, my boobs, my car, my home, my priorities, and all that other jazz), it’s my wardrobe.  Having three small children who both eat and grow at an astonishing rate, has meant that my own personal clothing budget has suffered somewhat.  Okay, I’ll be honest.  It is non-existent!

Gone are my days of leisurely window shopping.  If it isn’t the ever-present mummy-guilt peering over my shoulder and tutting, “You can’t afford that!  That’s two packets of nappies,” it is one or other of my children complaining, “I’m hungry.  I want to go to the toilet.  I want to go home.  Can I have this?” 

Shopping for myself, in short, is no longer enjoyable.  I buy something when I am in dire need, otherwise I try to steer clear.

However, the recent change of season has meant that I had to go to my local shopping centre to stock up on some warmer clothes for the children this week.  On my brisk walk towards the children’s department in one shop, I couldn’t help but be steered off course by a huge untidy mountain of jeans, perched at the top of which was a sign reading ‘Skinny Jeans Only $10.’

Only $10?  For that price they had to be pretty average I thought and charged on towards the children’s pyjamas.

Twenty minutes later, armed with a basketful of assorted kids clothing and underwear, I passed by the denim mound once again.

$10, huh?  Maybe I’ll just take a little peek.

It wasn’t long before my deft-hands, remembering the thrill of rifling through fabric for a bargain for myself, had landed on a dark pair in my size.  I waited a moment, and listened.  Nope.  Nothing from the mother-guilt, so I popped them in the basket and hurried to the checkout before I could change my mind.

Little did I know that purchasing them would be the easy part.

Getting into them was an effort of epic proportions.  Placing both of my feet into the legs I pulled them up to my thighs, and began that jumpy-hoppy technique whilst pulling for dear-life on the waistband.  But the fabric had begun to cling fast to my ankles, and being slightly on the tight side I decided to turn to the bed for a little assistance.  Lying on the bed, on my back with my legs in the air I hoisted and pulled the jeans up my legs.  After a few more moments of jumping and hopping around and pulling ridiculous faces I finally got the jeans up and around my bottom.

Deep breathe in and…voila…I pinched the button together and zipped up the fly.

Phew!

When they said skinny jeans they weren’t joking!  It was like wearing a bum-corset!  These suckers were so tight the sign should have read ‘Skinny Jeans Only $10 ~ And a complimentary yeast infection with every pair!’

But a bargain is a bargain, right? 

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.  The muffin-top overspill could be deftly hidden under a loose top.  Hmmm.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.

I had done it!  For the first time in over four years I had managed to buy myself something new without worrying about how much it cost, or feeling that I should have spent the money on the kids.

Now, all I have to do is work out how to get the freaking things off!

What is your worst bargain buy?

(Photograph courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn / FreeDigitalPhotos.net)