Okay, so picture this: I’m standing in Target last Tuesday, staring at myself in one of those horrible fluorescent-lit mirrors they have in the fitting rooms, and I literally looked like I’d given up on life. You know that look? The one where you’re wearing clothes that are technically fine but somehow make you feel invisible and frumpy and like you should just embrace the mom uniform of athleisure forever?
I was trying on yet another pair of jeans (because apparently finding jeans that fit after two kids is like some kind of cruel cosmic joke), wearing the same oversized sweater I’d thrown on that morning – the one that used to make me feel cozy but now just made me look like I was drowning in fabric. And I’m looking at myself thinking, “When did I start dressing like someone who’s completely given up?”
But here’s the thing – and this is going to sound ridiculous – the breakthrough didn’t come from buying new clothes. It came from my sister-in-law Jenny, who’s one of those effortlessly put-together people who somehow manages to look chic while chasing her three-year-old around the playground. I mean, I’ve literally seen her look magazine-ready at 7 AM school drop-off, and it’s honestly kind of annoying.
We were having coffee (well, I was having coffee, she was having some fancy green tea thing) and I was complaining about feeling frumpy and how I couldn’t figure out why all my clothes felt so… blah. Everything in my closet was either maternity clothes I should’ve donated years ago or these shapeless, “practical” pieces that made me feel like I was wearing a potato sack.
“Can I ask you something?” Jenny said, in that gentle way people use when they’re about to tell you something you probably don’t want to hear. “When’s the last time you actually tucked in a shirt?”
I stared at her. “Tucked in? Like… all the way tucked in? Isn’t that what our moms did in the ’90s?”
She laughed – not mean, just amused. “Trust me on this. The way you wear your clothes changes everything about how they look. You don’t need new pieces, you just need to wear what you have differently.”
I was skeptical, obviously. This sounded like one of those Pinterest life hacks that looks great in theory but doesn’t work in real life, like using mason jars to organize everything or making your own cleaning products with essential oils. But Jenny insisted on giving me a mini styling session right there in my kitchen.
She had me change into one of my typical mom uniforms – dark wash jeans (the expensive ones I’d splurged on during a rare solo shopping trip), a basic white tee, and a cardigan. Nothing special, just the kind of outfit I’d wear to pick up the kids and run errands. The kind that made me feel like I was wearing a costume called “Generic Suburban Mom.”
“Now tuck the shirt all the way in,” she instructed. “Not the half-tuck thing everyone was doing a few years ago, just… fully tucked.”
I felt ridiculous. “This looks weird. I look like I’m trying too hard.”
“Just trust me. Now pull the shirt out just a tiny bit so it’s not skin-tight, and hike your jeans up maybe half an inch higher than you usually wear them.”
I followed her instructions, feeling like we were playing some bizarre game of fashion dress-up. But when I looked in the mirror… okay, I have to admit, it actually looked better. Not dramatically different, but definitely more intentional. Less sloppy. More like I’d thought about what I was putting on that morning instead of just grabbing whatever was clean.
“Now try the cardigan pushed up at the sleeves and worn more fitted instead of hanging loose,” Jenny added.
The transformation was subtle but real. Same exact clothes, but suddenly I looked like a person who had their life together. Or at least like someone who’d made an effort to get dressed that morning.
This launched what I’m now calling my Great Wardrobe Experiment of 2024. I decided to go through every “blah” outfit in my closet and see if I could make it look more current just by changing how I wore it, without spending a single dollar. Because let’s be honest – between preschool tuition and the fact that kids outgrow shoes approximately every six weeks, my clothing budget is basically nonexistent.
The results were honestly surprising, and I say this as someone who used to work in PR and thought I knew something about looking put-together. Turns out, I’d been wearing everything wrong for the past few years.
Take my go-to “nice” outfit – black pants, a blouse, and flats. I’d been wearing it the same way since before I had kids, with the blouse sort of half-heartedly tucked in the front and the pants sitting wherever they naturally fell. It looked fine, I guess, but also completely forgettable. The kind of outfit that screams “I have no idea what my personal style is anymore.”
But when I fully tucked the blouse and pulled the pants up to sit higher on my waist? Completely different vibe. Suddenly I looked intentional instead of default. Put-together instead of just… there.
Or my casual weekend uniform of jeans and a sweater. I’d been wearing oversized sweaters completely untucked, which I thought was relaxed and comfortable but apparently just looked sloppy. When I started either fully tucking them (with a little blousing at the waist) or choosing fitted sweaters instead, the whole outfit upgraded itself.
The midi dress thing was a revelation too. I had this flowy dress I’d bought last spring thinking it would be perfect for school events and casual dinners, but every time I wore it, I felt like I was playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Turns out the problem was that I was letting it hang straight down with no shape or structure. When I added a belt – one I already had but never used – and wore it slightly higher on my waist, it actually looked like it belonged on my body instead of just hanging there.
I started experimenting with everything. The button-down shirts I’d been wearing buttoned up to the neck and loosely tucked? Way better when I unbuttoned them lower (scandalous, I know) and either tied them at the waist or tucked them in properly. The blazers I’d been throwing on over everything? More polished when I pushed the sleeves up and wore them more fitted instead of letting them hang loose.
Even something as simple as rolling my sleeves differently made a difference. Instead of just randomly pushing them up when I got hot, I started rolling them to hit at exactly mid-forearm and making sure both sleeves were even. Tiny detail, but it made everything look more deliberate.
My friend Sarah noticed the change immediately. We were at a birthday party for one of the kids in our playgroup, and she pulled me aside. “Okay, what’s different? Did you get new clothes? You look really good lately.”
I was wearing essentially the same outfit I’d worn to similar events all year – jeans, a nice top, sneakers – but styled completely differently. Instead of the oversized top hanging loose, I had it tucked in and belted. Instead of the jeans sitting low and casual, they were positioned higher and cuffed once to show just a bit of ankle. Instead of plain white sneakers, I was wearing them with actual socks that showed (I know, revolutionary).
“Same clothes,” I told her. “Just wearing them differently.”
She looked skeptical. “That’s it? Just tucking things in?”
“It’s not just tucking,” I explained. “It’s about proportions. Where things hit on your body, how fitted or loose they are, how they work together. I’ve been wearing everything like I’m trying to hide my body instead of dressing it.”
The thing is, after you have kids, there’s this tendency to want to camouflage everything. Hide the parts that changed, cover up with oversized clothes, play it safe with shapeless pieces that don’t require you to think about your body at all. But what I realized is that shapeless doesn’t actually make you look better – it just makes you look like you’ve given up.
I’m not saying you need to wear tight clothes or show a bunch of skin or dress like you did before kids. I’m saying that wearing clothes that actually fit your body and styling them intentionally makes a huge difference in how you feel and how you look.
The sneakers-with-socks thing was probably the biggest mental hurdle for me. I’d been so trained to think that visible socks were a fashion don’t, but when I saw how current it looked with certain outfits, I had to admit defeat. Sometimes fashion moves in directions that seem counterintuitive, and you either adapt or you get left behind wearing invisible sock liners forever.
Even my husband noticed, which is saying something because the man once asked me if I was wearing a new shirt when I’d literally owned it for three years. “You seem more… I don’t know, confident lately,” he said one morning when I was getting ready for a playdate.
And you know what? He was right. When your clothes actually look intentional instead of accidental, when you feel put-together instead of sloppy, it changes how you carry yourself. I wasn’t trying to hide or apologize for taking up space. I was just wearing my clothes like I meant to put them on that morning.
The best part about this whole experiment is that it forced me to actually look at what I owned instead of constantly thinking I needed new things. I rediscovered pieces I’d forgotten about, found new ways to combine things, and generally felt more creative about getting dressed. Instead of standing in my closet thinking “I have nothing to wear,” I started thinking “How can I wear this differently today?”
It’s not about following specific rules, though I’ve definitely learned some tricks. It’s about training your eye to notice when something looks current versus dated, which is usually a matter of small adjustments rather than completely different clothes. And once you start paying attention to these details, you can’t unsee them.
So before you decide you need a whole new wardrobe (trust me, I’ve been there), try this: take the pieces you already own but haven’t worn lately, and experiment with wearing them slightly differently. Tuck where you usually don’t tuck. Belt where you usually don’t belt. Adjust the proportions. Roll the sleeves with more intention. Position things higher or lower than you typically would.
It’s not about following fashion rules or trying to look like someone else. It’s about wearing whatever you have with intention instead of just throwing it on and hoping for the best. And honestly, as a mom with approximately zero time for complicated fashion routines, a two-minute styling adjustment that makes me look put-together is exactly the kind of life hack I needed.
Taylor’s a Minneapolis mom rediscovering her style between school runs and snack time. She writes about fashion that survives real life—affordable, comfortable, and still cute. Her posts are for moms who want to feel good without pretending motherhood is effortless.



