As usual Uma Thurman, that paragon of motherhood, is at it again. I mean, I can’t tell you how many times she has come to my rescue when I have felt confused as a mother. Doling out advice on how she handles the trials and tribulations of being a working mom. I so relate. It’s like she’s my mommy doppelganger (well, except for the long legs, the international fame and the billionaire boyfriend). But otherwise, we are one, Uma and me.

It’s gotten to the point I don’t even need to ask her for the advice (which is good since she’s apparently unlisted). It’s as if she reads my mind or something.

Like the other day, I was painting and cleaning when I realized I was out of food and dinner time was rapidly approaching. But my window of time before Julia got home from dance was very narrow. So I ran to Trader Joe’s in my full house cleaning regalia (paint stained ill-fitting overalls from 1997, ratty Keds and a white shirt that has come in contact with more of my Starbucks than I have). Naturally I was embarrassed to run into absolutely everyone I knew as I went up and down the aisles.

What a loser I am. What must they think of me, looking like I was just pulled from a dumpster? And then fellow Mammakaze ERIN sent me this picture.

  Erin said:

“This is how Uma does motherhood.  It’s like some weird homeless chic look. I knew I should have renewed my W Subscription. I’m so out of the fashion loop these days…”

And to further reinforce Erin’s point, here’s a photo of Patricia Arquette and her actor husband Thomas Jane that hit the internet that very same day! (I love the internet. The immediacy with which it feeds my need to scoff.)

Again, thank you Uma (and Patricia). Turns out I don’t need to feel crummy about my appearance in public. Turns out homeless chic is in.

And THANK YOU Erin. I can hit Target today without caring that anyone I know will see my wood stain stained fingernails (the result of staining Harry Potter wands for Julia’s upcoming birthday) and judge.  Cuz no matter how crappy and untended I look, I’m “in”, baby! Oops, gotta go. The phone’s ringing and it might be In Style calling.