Tragically Unhip

So Friday night we had an outing sans kids to a hip downtown art gallery for the opening of a friend's show.
Due to my (not so) minor collision in the Ikea parking lot, I did not have enough time to try on and reject every article of my wardrobe and had to get dressed in a hurry. I thought I looked presentable (my hair was brushed and blow dried and I was not sporting any spit up, which is HUGE for me) until I got into the gallery.
I have never felt so uncool in my life. There were flirty summer skirts, strappy sandals, mod glasses, funky capris and tshirts, a long feather thing and a leather skirt to die for. My dirty Chucks made me feel like an imposter. What was I doing there? There were kids there, so I was eyeing the moms to see what they fished out of their closets, big mistake. Why did the woman with 4 kids (the youngest sleeping in her Mei Tei) look so fucking put together? How was she able to get 4 adorable moppetts out of the house and still look like she fell out of Vogue? How come I can't do that? Is it because I am not a size? (I really am not, I dare you to find pants that fit my waist without giving me too much extra fabric in the tush as well as something that covers my boobs without making me look like I am pregnant again) I had to drink 3 glasses of white wine and go mini golfing so that I could feel human again.