Sunday, July 26, 2009

What Not to Wear

I have seen the enemy, and she is a pair of maternity jeans. Yesterday, I went with my mother and aunt to look for maternity clothes. Truly, the stash I came home with is not bad-looking and quite reasonably priced (big ups to JC Penney and Old Navy), but let me tell you - if this baby's a girl, I may end up naming her Polly Esther, because that is apparently the official fabric sponsor (TM) of gestation. I will be rocking polyester pants (with giant stretchy belly band) and polyester tops soon...and for many months, apparently. 

Of course, since I was with two pregnancy veterans, I got to hear ALLLLLLL about how huge I was going to be, how huge I would stay afterwards, how I should probably go ahead and buy everything in the biggest size possible because I would surely need get the picture. I freely admit that prior to getting knocked up, I was size 10 on top and 12 on the bottom. So I'm not the sveltest svelte that ever svelted, but I don't think I'm quite at the level of having my own show on TLC. 

I had thought I'd get some stuff to get me from here deep into trimester 2, rather than immediately buying the roomiest stuff and waiting to grow into it. On the spectrum of pregnant clothes, though, these two women see no middle ground between "not quite being able to button my jeans" and "Welcome to Caftan City." They urged me to consider wearing stretchy black pants and a black shirt that reaches to my knees for starting school in the fall. (When I am carrying a visible lump of child in the front, I'm sure the long shirt will be handy, but right now, I look like a fool.) 

"But black is slimming!" they cry.

I can't wait to show up for my first day of class looking like a high school stagehand. 

Other excellent pieces I tried on included: a pair of embroidered Ren-Faire-ish shirts, with sleeves that would have caused a pre-teen Anne Shirley to pee her pantalettes; an Empire-cut top that already appeared to have a rounded puff sewn in, awaiting my burgeoning gut and making me look seven months along at 13 weeks; and a sleeveless top with a smocked panel across my bosom. I didn't really have too much objection to this third option - smocking is likely more flattering for my gradually broadening boobs than just allowing them to continue on their current path, drifting apart like two halves of Pangaea.

I get where my mother and aunt are coming from - they don't like the whole concept of walking around in tight midriff tops, pregnancy-innies on full display. Despite basically agreeing with them, I still got to hear lots of "When I was your age, I made do with a polka-dot muumuu and a denim jumper! For five months! As God intended!"  You'd think I was planning on hanging out in a bikini top and denim cutoffs (as I did that one time at Carowinds, summer of '97. I'm not proud, but if you're going to sport that look anywhere, that was the place.) 

I think I'm going to pull a Lohan and invest in some leggings. If I pair them with a good ol' fashioned, Mama-endorsed muumuu, I might be able to claim it's cutting-edge fashion, y'all. 

1 comment:

  1. Ebay. More fashionable clothes at reasonable prices. That is the only solution - they even have some natural fabrics.

    I have some seriously ugly maternity clothes that came in the lot that I purchased. I can't quite figure out why anyone would have made these items, let alone paid good money for them!