I call it “The Fashion Nap” 

Words by Chani Ra, Photos by Mafalda Silva

My son was born on July 7th 2022. I opted for a meme reveal, covering his face in the car seat with a screenshot of a tweet that read ‘I think I need a baby. I’m not motivated enough, I need to do it for my son!’ To my dismay, the joke did not land and many people thought I was serious about this motivational quote. They knew something I didn’t. In October of 2022, when my son was three months old, I decided to get on TikTok and build my dream fashion career. 

I have never really had a mother. Mine gave me an ultimatum which left me as good as disowned 10 years ago. We were never close. I had always gravitated to the fashion world as a distraction; it has been the most consistent love in my life. I especially gravitated towards more mature women, the major players in fashion and style icons in their respective fields. Women at the intersection of motherhood and style were my heroes. I would watch interviews with Diane Von Furstenberg, Diana Ross and Pat Cleveland with laser focus, absorbing their wisdom and holding it close. Learning that Diana Ross scheduled her US tours to never miss the school run was the most aspirational thing I had ever heard in my life. These were the mothers in my head, my inspirations. It’s no surprise that I launched myself into fashion in the midst of the postpartum storm: I didn’t have examples of motherhood without the juxtaposition of glamour to make it seem more palatable. 

It wasn’t until I was on maternity leave and bored out of my mind during those 100 naps per day that I started to realise how much of my identity was tied to that teetering-on-obsessive love of fashion—something I felt further away from than ever. My body went through a radical transformation after my son was born, but in my case, it was the kind where people pull you aside and ask if you’re okay. I felt drowned by my clothes, and getting dressed felt like a metaphor for my shrinking sense of self. It was partially the constant breastfeeding, but the larger part was stress and not taking care of myself. For my push present, I asked my partner to replace all my basics and wardrobe essentials with things that fit. Nothing fancy as I knew that version of my body was temporary. It was the gift of confidence and a reunion with the joy of dressing.

Often the thing you should be doing is the most obvious to everyone but you. I dropped out of college at 17 and started doing nails at 19 which I continued to do for 10 years. In the interim I was interning and assisting in the fashion world, taking any random peek behind the curtain I could get. The years I spent in salons felt like I was on autopilot. I let my life stagnate and take a backseat due to my tumultuous mental health. My whole existence was working 5-6 days a week and then going out and drinking. I didn’t thrive mentally in the overstimulating salon environment and I had a post-pandemic-pivot job in marketing at a branding agency where I quit after nine months because I couldn’t handle the micro-management. I wanted a job where I could be left to my own devices. Before I could figure out what that meant, I was pregnant.

People always say that the key to social media is consistency and daily posting. As a chronically online woman, I was always curious about content creation, but who has the time to post that much? I looked at my sleeping baby and realised, for once, I did have time. I began using every nap to work on content. Nap 1: research and script. Nap 2: makeup. Nap 3: filming. Nap 4: edit. Bedtime: bonus research for the days ahead. It became an obsession. I started with my hypothetical ‘Mastermind’ subject: 90s supermodels. The model bios I was filming while looking bedraggled, sometimes with a baby over my shoulder when the nap ended too soon, sometimes breastfeeding in the outro. It was taking off.

Within a few weeks I was seeing hundreds of thousands of views. The Fashion Nap was born and moving faster than I had anticipated. Six months in, I got my first brand deal which was a six month rolling contract with a monthly fee from a brand who respected my role as a mother. It’s a contract I am still in two years later. I took it as a sign that I was on the right path. Over time, I un-niched and began using my account to explore every corner of fashion from history and news to styling looks. It gave me the freedom to make whatever I want which opened me up to so many different opportunities. Hosting, interviewing, partnerships, panels, personal styling. 

If I’m being honest, my plan was to be a stay-at-home-mum. But as someone who had always worked, the concept of giving up the key to my finances was daunting. Even if I wasn’t making huge amounts of money, it was still mine. I also quickly realized that staying home with a baby was vastly more work than any job I had held before. 

But once I was creating something that was 100% my own, it completely consumed me. My role as a mum was also consuming me. It was a year of content creation before I finally put my son in a part-time nursery. As my Tiktok account started to grow, it felt like there was no going back, like there was a tiny window to jump through before it closed forever. 

We have always been taught that a baby is a hindrance to your career, something that grinds your life to a shrieking halt. I can say with full confidence that with my personality type, one that (for better or for worse) runs on deadlines and pressure to keep me in line, I am 100 times more driven and productive as a mother than I was as a 20-something with an abundance of ‘me time.’ Do you know what I did with ‘me time’?! SELF DESTRUCTION! 

Things that held my career back: 

Depression

Hangovers

Procrastination

Low self-worth

Boys

Getting comfortable in jobs that were going nowhere

People pleasing

Things that did not hold my career back: 

My child

That’s not to say everything is perfect. I had to figure out how I was going to have the career that I wanted to have while simultaneously being the mother that I wanted to be. How do I achieve as much as possible without detracting from my relationship with my son? Honestly, I still haven’t cracked it. 

I interviewed Who What Wear UK’s Editor-in Chief, Hannah Almassi—a mum herself—for my podcast, The Fashion Nap. She spoke about the two types of mums you see in the media; the extremely present mother or the often stigmatised career woman. I felt a small lump in my throat as she was speaking. It was the first time I realised I was trying to be the former, but I was creating a life where I needed to be the latter. She perfectly articulated the tension I had been feeling. I realised that I put immense pressure on myself to be everything. In order to keep my son's nursery days to a minimum, I let the work overflow to the post-bedtime shift, working until around 1am every night. I still work during his one remaining nap when he is home. I’ve only left him for one night in his entire life; a night in Milan to cover a fashion show. 

I know this is the norm for so many of us. I am constantly criticised by my peers for not taking breaks, but when the break is over, the deadlines are still there. The time is not. I watch these mothers who allow themselves the week long work trips and God forbid actual solo vacations in awe and I wonder what the mental block is that makes it feel so unattainable for me. I’m able to say ‘wow she deserves that!’ but for some reason, the sentiment doesn’t extend to myself. It’s fear. It’s overcompensating for the failures of my own parents. My partner is so supportive and we are a very 50/50 team and that has made me feel like I’m not qualified to say it’s hard or to feel stuck—especially with so many doing this solo. Village-less parenting is not for the weak and I guess I’m the weak!

I know on reading this you might think it sounds like a relentless nightmare. I hear it from my child-free friends all the time—constantly using the first friend to become a parent as the yardstick for life they might not want. What people don’t realise is my life is 100% better with a child. I might be occasionally depressed or overwhelmed now (thank you PMDD) but before becoming a parent, I was depressed and medicated every single day. The ever spinning wheel of society kept me trapped in jobs I didn’t want and living a lifestyle that did nothing for me out of pure survival. Taking motherhood seriously and becoming a role model meant a solid reason to never accept the short straw again. I tell my son he can do hard things and now I am able to show him how. I get to model hard work to my son. I get to be his first example of building your dream life from nothing. I am able to give him things that were impossible in my own childhood. I am able to teach him about strategy and thinking without limits. As parents, my partner and I get to set an example of a supportive household where we move as a team. My son is exposed to creativity every day. He is exposed to our ambitions every day. As a child, I didn’t see any of this. I wasn’t expected to exceed my circumstances. I am blessed every day with the opportunity to make the world bigger for him. 

The fact is, I would not have this career if it wasn’t for my son. I wouldn’t have had the confidence, the motivation or the time to lean into my wildest dreams. 

That meme reveal may not have landed, but it turned out to be spot-on: I had to do it for my son.