cheap maternity bras As of July 1, 2008, one suitcase per person. Max 50 pounds, that is what our airline is telling us. What we brought for New York was what I thought, the basics. I took a photo, it looked like enough for a month and was a mound of bags about the size of the buffet. This time, for a month, I want to take was looks like enough for a week. That means hardly anything. Wouldn’t it be funny if I wore all the old clothes in my mom’s attic from when I was in high school? The ones that she still has that is. I doubt that my Fonzerelli thumbs up shirt in pale yellow is still there. Mom donates our stuff often to the Indian Reservation that she works on and to the local charity shops. There might only be her hippy clothes left from the sixties. You can all laugh at me in a crocheted top and gypsy skirt. Oh yeh, that might just be fashionable right now! A couple pairs of jeans, some tank tops and five pairs of underwear and two sports bras should be enough. We have three or four nice dinners to go to so I’ll bring one black dress that rolls into a ball (it was a maternity dress that my sister gave me from a Thrift shop in Utah). The same for my daughter and my husband, but no maternity wear for them, of course. I am still wearing those bloomers and no, I am not pregnant, just frumpy. It’s the last month of A Slow Year, that means no shopping. No box stores, no thrift stores for me, not even a garage sale. Nada. I’ll scrounge if I have to, wash my clothes often and just relax without a shopping list or agenda. For a conformed shopper in the land of cheap plenty plus the excellent exchange rate for Euros, trust me, this is going to be a big challenge for me, mentally
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