From Granola to Gucci

If you had bumped into Party Mom about 10 years ago she wouldn’t be looking so good. In fact she’d be looking like a big mess. And Party Mom would not have been carrying her gorgeous Chanel bag that is attached at all times. Back then, she preferred something ripped, baggy, shapeless, and probably bought at Value Village. Her hair was a dyed shade of pinkish red and she was always decked out in her finest patchwork and designer Birkenstocks. Party Mom's somewhat sorted past goes something like this:

After college, I moved to a beautiful mountain town to take a year and ski. Oh and did I ski!!! I was up and down those mountains in every which way but skiing. I partied my brains out and became a so-called “hippie.” I worked in a low rent restaurant that my sister referred to as the Waffle House of the mountains. My roommates were tattooed from head to toe and had dozens of piercings.

When my parents came to visit on occasion you would have thought they were going to a funeral. My mom would break down crying when she would take one look at me or the guy I was dating. And my father was so freaked out that he could not even hold down his vodka. They were shocked and disgusted.

Eventually mom and dad yanked me out of the mountains with the threat of being cut off. If I were to be cut off who would pay for the ugly clothes, camping gear, concert tickets and EVERYTHING else that defined me as a hippie or in reality a “credit card hippie.”

I moved myself to the big city and I absolutely hated it. I lived across from Prada, Barneys, and every other beautiful store known. My mom made it her mission to glamorize her daughter. She would force me to sit at the makeup counter, but I would cry so hard that the mascara would wash right off. She would spend hours making me try on every shirt, shoe, and dress. She would do just about anything including bribery. But I wasn’t having it. I lived in fanciest area surrounded by the most beautiful people and I looked like a homeless person.

Now, fast forward a few years, but still several years before I became Party Mom, or even Party Wife. I had a HUGE life changing moment. It was at Saks and there it was. The MOST beautiful brown Prada bag. I thought could this be me? It’s not black. It will go with all my neutral hippie clothes, and it’s a little sophisticated. SO I BOUGHT IT!! I felt like the most beautiful hippie ever. This is all I will ever need, so I thought…

From that moment on I began to shop and shop and shop. My mom’s smile grew bigger and so did my fathers Amex bill. My clothes got a little tighter, my boobs got more visible, and within seconds I was a changed woman.

Was it a change for the better? Hell yeah! I managed to attract the most handsome and delicious husband in the world. I live in a great house and I have the most precious happy children in the world. Do I love nice things? ABSOLUTELY!!! But do I only buy designer clothes? Not at all! I’m Party Mom and I can make myself look good in almost any store. I shop everywhere from Wet Seal to high end stores. And yes if I have it I flaunt it! Why would you not???

So ladies and especially you single ones, take my advice. Don’t cover up what you have. Flash those boobies and your booty. Shorten those skirts and NEVER forget to wax. Take down your hair, but you may need to purchase a flat iron first. Darken that eye makeup and brighten those lips. And then take yourself out on the town. I promise when the works done it will all be worth it.

Until Next Time,
Party Mom