It’s not that I love fashion any less than I ever have. More than just loving clothes, I love the whole process of getting dressed, putting together an outfit, of knowing what will look good together, of knowing what will look good on me. I’ve always felt that way. I can remember being a young child and having very adamant thoughts about the types of clothes and shoes I wanted to wear (skirts not pants, except what I called “swishy” pants, which I believe must have been bell-bottoms, though now I’m dating myself in a way in which no fashionista ever wants).

Of course, I still have very adamant thoughts about the clothes I like and want to own. But, the reality is, that more often than not these days, I’m all dressed up with no place to go.

I used to work in a law firm. Every morning, I’d get up and dress the part — tweed pencil skirts, silk blouses, structured blazers. And heels. Of course, always beautiful heels (except for that unfortunate period when I hurt my ankle and found myself in a walking boot for months, but I’d really rather not dredge up those painful memories).  Over the past few years, though, I’ve been working from home or, for brief spans here and there, not working at all. Oh, and then there’s pregnancy and motherhood, each of which present their own unique fashion challenges.

Now, I’m not one of those people who thinks that the great advantage of working from home is staying in my pajamas all day. For me, that’s an easy recipe for checking my email and then taking a nap. Even on maternity leave, I’ve felt it hugely important to still look put together, no matter that no one but the baby might see me that day. It’s been important because “looking put together” is such a part of who I am. And as any new mother will tell you, it’s really easy to lose all sense of who you are once baby comes along.

Still, it doesn’t feel right to pull out the pencil skirt and silks to sit at my dining room table with my laptop. And it’s really, really incompatible with spit up and playing peekaboo on the living room floor. So, I have a closet-full of office clothes and no office to go to. And I’m left with the realization that what I’m good at is, well, dressing up. Need to look good for an interview? I’ve got that covered. Cocktail party? I have the dress and some killer accessories. Last-minute tickets to a black tie event? Not a problem. But looking nice for running errands and afternoon lunch or a stroll through the park? Well, it turns out, I’m at a bit of a loss. Casual chic has never been my thing. Yet, here I am, leading a casual life. And for a lot of reasons, I really need it to still be chic.

I think a lot about how we can use fashion as a means of expression — telling the world how we view ourselves and how we want to be viewed by others. Lately, I’ve thought a lot about how our sense of style isn’t static but changes as our sense of self evolves and the demands of our life shift over time. My life has evolved in incredible and fundamental ways and yet my wardrobe and my style are dragging their heels (ahem) about changing too.

Funny, I always called my business casual office wear my “lawyer costume” because it never quite felt like me, like my true style. Now, when I stare at my closet, deciding what to wear, I wonder what my true style really is these days. You could say that I’m still looking for the right pair of gorgeous, if slightly more casual, shoes that I just have to own. Although, let’s be honest, I know they’re still going to be a pair of heels.

So far, though, my decision to largely buy non-maternity clothes in drapey, stretchy fabrics has been paying off. Yesterday, I discovered that the Lululemon top that I bought because it was long enough to cover my very round belly during prenatal yoga actually has elastic side cinches, allowing me to pull it in and up. Which is good, because otherwise it looked like a very cute yoga potato sack.

Today, as the temperatures are set to soar even higher, I pulled out a two-toned, Mark Jacobs jersey sundress that was loose and comfy enough to see me through the last days of pregnancy and the DC August heat. I really love this dress, both for style and nostalgia reasons, and I was afraid post-pregnancy that it’d just be a halter-neck muumuu. Happily, while much drapier than my usual fitted styles, I think it still looks nice. The rushing along the bottom of the side seams near the hem keep it from being too tent like. And the colors and halter top are still as striking as ever. And, yes, still very comfy, which is as important when trying to keep up with a seven-month old as when seven months pregnant.

Now, I can’t remember who said this, so I don’t know exactly when it was said either. But inexpensive shoes are perhaps not what they use to be. The upside of fast fashion is there are plenty of less expensive, fairly well made, charming shoes out there. There are certainly plenty in my closet that look as good, or almost, as the more expensive shoes I’ve invested in.

That said, I’ve made a point over the years of holding fast to the last two bits of advice. Cheap perfume, is, well, awful. It smells fake and chemically, and personally, I think it’s better either to invest in one good signature scent or skip it altogether. Frankly, I wish everyone else felt that way too.

Still, I’d rather dowse myself in drugstore perfume than get a cheap haircut. I’ve never had one that was in anyway a bargain. A poorly executed haircut at best fails to achieve the look you’re after and at worse can leave you crying and wearing hats for weeks. A really well done cut, on the other hand, not only looks fabulous but will grow out well. Which means it’s actually the more economical choice because you can go that much longer between cuts. What’s more, having a trusted stylist gives you the freedom, or perhaps courage, to be adventurous and try new looks.

I was reminded of all this yesterday when I got my hair cut. As my stylist, the wonderful Stephanie at Parlour Salon, and I talked through what I wanted, at each step, as I was given the choice between going a little shorter, a little funkier, a little more daring, I could take a deep breath and tell her to go for it, trusting that I’d walk out of the salon looking chic not chopped. And that feeling is fashion gold.

I resisted the urge to buy every piece in Ted Baker‘s spring collection, even though on walking through the door, I felt as if I’d been transported to my own personal Wonderland of flowy pastels and feminine detailing. Floral dresses and silky tops with peter-pan collars whispered “Eat me, Drink me!” while my credit card screamed “Off with her head!!” I was less well restrained at the Bloomie’s Chanel counter, but my skin does feel ever so soft and has a delightful peachy glow.

The fashions may have been all about Spring, but the weather was decidedly wintery. So it was that Miss Leigh and I found ourselves trudging through slush (albeit chic Fifth Avenue slush) Friday morning to peer longingly in the windows of Salvatore Ferragamo. We arrived early enough that we actually had to stand in the snow and wait for the doors to open. But we were as determined, despite shivering in the doorway.  Miss Leigh hoped to find a stunning, irresistible pair of shoes from the design house that launched the wedge.

Waiting outside of Ferragamo.

Finally, the doors were opened, and we ambled through the store, the only customers.  An over-eager and somewhat cloying salesman followed us wherever we went. He waived perfume samples under our noses, which we only wrinkled. He insisted I try on a military-inspired linen jacket, which he insisted was just the thing for summer. I laughed out loud at the thought of wearing the admittedly beautiful, if somewhat heavy, piece in the D.C. summer.  We finally lost him in the shoe department, which sadly proved disappointing. Too many spikey heels and metal gussets and not enough classic wedge. Miss Leigh left empty-handed.

Our trip was not entirely without classic Ferragamo style. Almost hidden in a back room, we found the very 1930′s platforms that inspired our trip. Ferragamo has reissued limited editions of some its most famous and glamorous designs, many of them originally made for Hollywood’s most beautiful women.  Marilyn Monroe’s golden heels; Audrey Hepburn’s ballet flats, Judy Garland’s rainbow platforms. Any of them could be yours. And if you have to ask the price, well, you’d better just come with me to the Chanel counter.

Ferragamo rainbow platform wedge from the Ferragamo Creations collection, a reissue of classic Ferragamo designs.

The loafers arrived just at the right moment too. They’ll distract me from mourning over the loss (again) of my much loved La Canadienne riding boots. After shelling out $80 to fix the zipper on the right boot just 3 months ago, the zipper busted again in the exact same spot. And it broke while I was out of town. In Boston. A week after a blizzard. And the only other shoes I had with me were suede booties.

I’m guessing another attempt to fix the riding boots is a lost cause. They’ve just always been a bit too snug over my apparently ginorous calves. Add in my insistence on wearing them with my skinny jeans tucked in and it’s obviously too much for any zipper currently known to human beings. Or at least the standard boot zipper. On the upside, at least they broke right in time for the end-of-winter boot sales!

Kicking back in my red suede penny loafers. TGISF!!

Reblogged from InStyle.com What's Right Now:

My own desperate search for shoes in a town where I can never find a pair under the best of circumstances led me to the drastic, and I must say indulgent, measure of ordering an array of shoes from Amazon in hopes of finding one pair that fits and looks good with my dress. It’s like the UPS man brought the shoe store to me. Right now, the blue pair on the right is the leading contender as the closest to fitting what could be called comfortably. Final decision to be made after I pick up my dress from Neiman’s alterations department tomorrow.