Dear Stacy and Clinton,

I love What Not To Wear. I like watching people discover their style and figure out what flatters them. I’m insanely jealous of the $5,000 gift cards that must be spent on new clothes and shoes. And I love the aha moment when it clicks for some participants and they realize that, shallow though it may be, the truth is: many people won’t bother to judge you based on the insides if the outsides look like you robbed Goodwill during a bad trip.

If I love the show so much, why do you sense a but coming? Because you’re smart and intuitive, that’s why.

You have a good show, but you are overlooking an important segment of the population: Moms, during the summer months. Personally, here in central Texas your tips are perfect from November through March. But every year I fight a seven-month battle of style vs. sweat.

Let’s discuss.

You always recommend layers, like adding a cardigan or light jacket to an outfit. In July in Austin, the only thing I’m layering is regular deodorant on top of clinical strength deodorant.

While I might be able to throw on a light sweater inside a movie theater or a restaurant – no, I’m going to stop right there. You know what kinds of movies and restaurants moms patronize in the summer? Kid friendly kinds.

The shear physicality of wrestling kids in and out of high chairs, rescuing them from the top of the Chick-Fil-A play area, or simply having them sit in your lap during a movie (so sweet, so much body heat) leaves moms soggy. And that sweater we threw in our purse in case the theater was cold? We just used it to wipe up spilled juice.

I cannot accessorize in the summer. Can’t do it. About the time I have my kids buckled in their car seats, I’m ripping off my jewelry and throwing it in my purse. Forget about belts. They only create upstairs and downstairs lines of demarcation for the pooling perspiration.

In my purse right now: a multi-strand beaded necklace, worn approximately 13 minutes before I had a matching sweat necklace; a chunky, red bracelet that looked fantastic with my blue and white striped tee shirt and white pants, until a puddle formed under the bracelet; a pair of dangling earrings that became stuck to my neck, due to – you guessed it – sweat that was mixed with sunscreen, forming a glue-like paste that attached the lovely earrings to my neck.

In this one area we’re probably okay. I don’t want any leather or other toasty material wrapped around my ankles. Hello, ankle sweat. But as long as I can chase down a rogue toddler in them, I don’t take issue with stylish shoes in the heat.

I single out wrap dresses, and their faux sisters, for a couple reasons. One, I redirect you to the discussion of belts (see above) and two, they are often made of jersey or some equally clingy material. Clingy material in 100 degree heat: unless you’re into bondage, it’s not comfortable.

Oh, forget it. Hair goes in a ponytail. Faces get sunscreen and waterproof mascara.

In conclusion, I am hot. I am sweaty. I look terrible. I would love to be fashionable and put together every day. But when I do take the time to look like a million bucks, the Texas heat renders me a damp $2 bill in seven minutes or less.

Stacy and Clinton, I beg you: help the summertime mom.

Yours Always, In Fashion and Out, And Very Rarely Wearing Yoga Pants In Public, I Promise,

Missy Stevens

Sweaty Mom

Missy Stevens writes, blogs, raises a couple boys with a very good man, and fails at homemaking in Austin, Texas. She’s a reformed social media addict, meaning she’s only on Facebook and Twitter part of every day now. You can also find her once a week or so on her blog, Wonder, Friend.