I stupidly assumed that I was done with all things maternity after giving birth in early December. Even started to pack some of the things up, eagerly sending them to storage.
I was wrong.
Yes, I have lost some poundage thanks to the bi-hourly yanking on my nipples (i.e., breastfeeding). But still, clothing options are limited.
I have been wearing the same pair of maternity jeans for weeks now. Fortunately, they are loose and I have to keep pulling them up. At the same time, regular tops are still too short (due to the newfound belly pooch) so I have a lovely display of flab every time I get up from a chair or reach up high for something. Instead, I have turned to nursing tops, which are a dream come true. These allow you to discreetly yank down a corner of your top to bust out a boob for feeding. Given that said boobs are now, literally, size triple Z, there is no wearing of regular tops.
The good thing is that my feet have deflated. If you had looked at my feet in the weeks after my delivery you would have thought they belonged to Ricki Lake in her Hairspray years. Nothing cheers a new mom up like looking down at her fat-girl feet.
In a fit of desperation I went to Club Monaco on Christmas Eve in the hopes of finding a top to wear during the holidays. I chose a black button down. Took a medium and a large into the fitting room. At first thought I had stumbled into Club Monaco Kids. Both too tight. Asked for extra large. Still too tight. Had post-partum breakdown in change room.
Then I went to the Gap. With the salesgirl’s assurance that they would stretch a full size I bought a pair of my fave Long and Lean jeans in a size bigger than I normally wear. I poured myself into them that night, very pleased that I was able to do them up. Everything was going swimmingly until I came home that night and took them off. Then my husband kindly pointed out that the waistband, zipper and button of said jeans had imprinted themselves into my skin. Deeply. Have put those away for awhile.
So, it’s back to maternity sweat pants, nursing tops and my husband’s t-shirts. From time to time even maternity underwear make their way onto my person. It’s a sad state of affairs for the Fashionista, folks. I look forward to coming back to the land of the thin and fashionable (ok, I never was in the land of the thin, but whatever). I hope you will all be there to welcome me back with open arms.
Have a question for the Fashionista? Seek her counsel at fashionista@lawandstyle.beta-site.ca.