Daniel Craig -- the new James Bond -- and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi have something in common: They don't look like the roles they play.

Much fuss has been made over Pelosi's wardrobe now that she's taken the gavel. From what I've seen and read, she's one trendy grandma. Pelosi pushes Washington's fashion boundaries with modern jewelry and bold colors, and some say she doesn't dress like a Speaker of the House should.

As for Mr. Craig: True Bond fans were up in arms over a blonde 007. They said he just didn't look "Bond" enough.

We all have stereotypes about what people should look like. And I can relate. Now that I've had my son, I feel like I'm supposed to look like a mom.

This all started at a meeting when I saw a colleague for the first time since my son was born. Her reaction was not what I'd hoped to hear.

"Ohmygod! You look like a mom!" she exclaimed.

"A what? Do I look that different?" I asked as I looked down at my high-collared lace top and cardigan.

She immediately backtracked, "Well, you know what I mean. You know, you look more mature now. Wiser."

Actually, I didn't know what she meant. For me, looking like a mom has always translated into an image of June Cleaver -- short bobbed hair, conservative dress, perfect makeup and hot bundt pan in hand.

Or worse. I've identified moms from afar by their high-waisted jeans, practical shoes and large bags. Neither of those moms are me.

However, some of my recent actions speak otherwise. I've cut my hair shorter, bought some new sweat suits, avoid low-waist jeans and wear lipstick almost every day.

The old me was used to wearing the latest trends and unpractical styles and didn't care if her lips looked perfect. I'm just a shell of who I used to be. What happened?

As a mom, I feel the need to project a certain image, whether at work or at home. My gut and motherly instinct tell me to dress my age as opposed to wearing what is trendy. My new biggest fear is that I'll end up looking like my son's baby sitter, not his mother.

But this isn't me. I'm used to my fashion freedom. Wearing what's practical doesn't suit me. Wearing what's fun does. That doesn't always match with having a baby.

I figured I was allowed to go fashionable once in awhile. So one day I decided to ditch the mommy in favor of the trendy, with my son as a trusted accessory. The mission? Spend a whole day in heels and use a regular purse rather than a diaper bag.

The result? Disaster.

First, I made the fashion newcomer error of choosing to wear heels in the middle of winter in Chicago. Ever try navigating icy sidewalks in stilettos? I don't recommend it. After five minutes of pushing my son in his stroller, I was ready to call it a day.

But ditching my diaper bag was worse. With sore feet and stiff calves I pushed my son to our luncheon destination. I remembered his food. Unluckily, I forgot the accessories in my diaper bag. After some creative parenting I was able to cobble together a paper napkin bib and spoon that my son wouldn't gag on.

There is a reason they make diaper bags -- they work.

Feeling depressed about the failure of my efforts on my painful and wobbly walk home, I contemplated my new fashion existence. Am I destined to live out the rest of mommyhood in hair pins and sweater sets?

I don't know. But I do know that I successfully pulled off an outfit from my past, but my son/accessory didn't really seem to care. All he really needed was a smooth walk, a clean bib and tasty food.

To him, I look good as the part of his mother whether my hair is done or my shirt is pressed. For me, I think I've finally realized that the clothes don't necessarily make the mom.