I've been in Rhode Island this weekend visiting my in-laws. One of the nice things about visiting family is the built-in babysitting. Matthew and I had "date night" on Friday after we bathed and put Jude to bed. We went up to Federal Hill and walked around. It's a very old Italian part of Providence that has been revamped in recent years and lots of restaurants and shops have moved in and revitalised the area. We has a great time people watching and window shopping.
We came upon a clothing store that we hadn't seen before (which blows my mind since we later found out it's been there for 9 years) and went in to check it out. The atmosphere was super cool and edgy, really well decorated with funky style. There were vintage chandeliers and old hat stands, all the makings of a chic boutique. Definitely not your mall clothing store.
The clothing was amazing. As we looked through the racks there were coats, tops, sweaters, skirts, even hats that really blew us away. After about 10 minutes Matthew said, "Do you see any tags on these pieces? I think these are all in-house!" He was right. Every piece was designed and handmade by the store. Amazing clothing. The detail and thought put into those clothes was obvious.
We ended up talking to the salesman, who we found out was one of the designers. He was soft-spoken and appreciated compliments on his work. We admired his work for about 20 minutes, I mused about what I'd love to wear once I shed the 30 nagging lbs I've been meaning to lose since before Jude was born. We laughed a little and talked about a '20s inspired cutaway coat... and then he saw my arm. He saw my tattoo. He said, "Oh, how lovely. Are you a seamstress?"
And my heart sank. "No," I said. "Not at the moment." I wanted to cry. That's not a very good example to set for my son. Set goals, dream big, let it fall by the wayside when life takes over. I need to set a better example. Lead by example. All talk is no way to be.