♥Electric blue sweatshirt dress: Mothercare ♥ Back tank: Old Navy ♥ Scarf: Vintage, from Mom’s college days ♥ Leggings: Gap ♥ Peep toe wedges: M&S ♥ Felt necklace: Handmade by me ♥

@24 WeeksΞ Moving to Ireland from the US should come with a vocabulary list. My poor kid is going to be confused when I say eggplant and dad says aubergine, I say BAY-sil and dad says bass-il. One of the terms I found funniest when I first moved over was jumper. That’s why I like this dress–it suits both definitions: 1) a sleeveless, collarless dress or pinafore; 2) a heavy sweater or shirt. It’s a jumper jumper!

This little dress was a great find at Mothercare (€15). Made out of heavy sweatshirt material, it is really very comfortable and fits easy over the bump without clingy stretching like some jersey. It’s short and bright and looks age appropriate for a gal in her 20s–something that I’ve found lacking in a lot of maternity lines.

Accessories include a great scarf that I stole from my Mom’s closet years ago and those new M&S wedges. Sadly, I decided to return the shoes after taking the photo. They are lovely, but a little to high for maternity shoes. The necklace I made out of little felt circles stitched together matches perfectly and fills the space from the scoop neckline.

Like this amazing leather bag in perfect condition and totally necessary for the ubiquitous equestrian fall look.

And no more t-shirts for me! Time to smarten up my work attire with cute and interesting tops that will work well with skits, trousers or layered over dresses.

You never know what you’ll find in Dublin’s many charity shops, so keep you eyes open. Look for clean, quality items that you know you’ll use again. I try to go in with a colour or item in mind (clearly blue shirts were on order this week). Know your size and shape so that you don’t have to worry about trying things on.

I still have a soft spot in my heart for sneakers. When I saw these on the Thrush Etsy site, I said to myself, “Self, there’s no way these will be in your size. Go ahead and look at them, you know you won’t be tempted.”

But wouldn’t you know it, they’re in my size. Damn. Now what do I do? I’d love a sweet pair of vintage kicks. But I can also hear the disapproving tone in my husband’s voice as I bring home a pair of shoes that I can’t wear to work. The price is great. You’d pay as much, if not more, for a new pair of  Adidas.

I don’t think I can justify this purchase (not when I’m preparing my argument for new summer shoes). A younger, more sporty self would have snapped them up in a sec. Think I need to get some cute wedges to make adulthood more bareable.