All In The Suit That You Wear
I think it speaks volumes to how isolated we are here in Vermont — at least our particular brand of country — that I thought that Syracuse was some sort of gleaming metropolis. I couldn’t stop marveling at the array of stores! Shopping! Car dealerships! When was the last time you gave your local car dealerships a nod of appreciation? It turns out their presence, provided they sell more than an odd mix of veggie-powered vans and Ford F150s, goes a long way to making you feel connected to the rest of the universe. Because if there’s a car dealership, that means there are people. People who need to buy cars because their jobs aren’t within walking or Schwinning distance, because they live in an actual city with an actual economy other than a college and the health food store.
Ahem. It seems I am a bit bitter today. Bitter because my sister-in-law can shop at a mall that doesn’t take an hour to get to and has a store that carries Gap Maternity clothes IN THE FLESH, without having to go through the whole online rigmarole, especially since the ladies in maternity catalogs have pregnancies akin to Jennifer Aniston’s on Friends. As in, THEY ARE MANNEQUINS. NOT PEOPLE.
Can you tell one of our items on the pre-baby list is to move to civilization, oh my lands? Or at least move somewhere that gDiapers (yes, I’m going to try them) are available somewhere other than the Interwebs?
Anyway, if you’ll indulge me for a moment to discuss maternity wear, I would be much obliged. I … well. I hate it. I hate shopping for maternity clothes, because it all feels like such a waste (and my GOD, they are SO EXPENSIVE) and yet wearing things that don’t fit and/or are uncomfortable make an already miserable pregnancy pretty close to absolutely unbearable. If there is ever a time when you need to look cute, it is at a time when you feel your shittiest. I have been gifted with a TON of baby crap from my younger brother who’s all set with the breeding, thanks, and I am so incredibly grateful to his family for it. I was never one for hand-me-downs until I got pregnant and realized how LITTLE this stuff is used and how EYE-POKINGLY EXPENSIVE it all is.
Alas, I have not been given any maternity wear. This both frustrates me and pleases me: on the one hand, I hate spending a ton of money on clothes I’ll wear for a year of my life, max, and it would have been nice to at least have a few hand-me-downs to get me started. On the other, I like being able to pick things out that suit me, rather than feeling like I have to figure out a way to make that polka-dotted shirt work because someone gave it to me, dammit, and I CANNOT WASTE THINGS.
However! I have a few bones to pick with the maternity wear industry. And if you are not pregnant, never plan to become pregnant, couldn’t give a shit about maternity wear because you’re wearing your husband’s jeans instead (BAD IDEA), you can stop reading and come back tomorrow. This will be boring as sin for you. Also bear in mind, your mileage may vary, etc. Also? I WELCOME ADVICE, FRIENDS. I’m not buying anything else for a little while, but I had to pick up a few things, at least to get me through now, as my belly is … a bit bigger. Not huge, but bigger. Big enough that the Bella Band is a thing of the past, not that I ever really liked it anyway (Turns out that wearing your pants unbuttoned means that there are buttons poking you in really bad places! Who knew?)
Anyway! My beefs and questions, in no particular order:
– Motherhood Maternity has the cheapest, strangest maternity clothes on the planet, and their sister stores (Mimi and Pea in the Pod) offer incremental improvements at best, and certainly not enough to warrant the price increase. For fun, why don’t you go check out A Pea in the Pod’s prices? I’ll wait. Now imagine that shirt will fall apart after two washings, and calculate the cost per wearing. Oh, I’m sorry, HAVE YOU DIED? Also, call me crazy, but I think $95 for a PLAIN COTTON T SHIRT is a bit excessive under normal circumstances, much less an inherently temporary condition. Side note: please note how the model’s crotch is dropping TO HER KNEES in the main photo. This is a recurring problem and does not bode well for their denim possibilities.
Not only are the shirts sized for anorexic primordial dwarfs, but they will disintegrate after one washing. To wit: I’m a size small/medium usually, but in Motherhood, I’m an XL. This leads me to wonder what in God’s name normal large/extra-large sized women do, which must be to make their own maternity clothes from leftover potato sacks, because Motherhood has decided that not only are they the most flatulent, pukey versions of themselves, but that they are also fat and slovenly and can’t even fit into the BIGGEST SHIRT THEY MAKE. Way to support the sisterhood, Motherhood! Make the perfectly normal pregnant ladies feel horrid!
Their one redeeming quality: bra extenders. God bless the bra extender, for when you’ve gone up a band size, but not a full cup size. And they’re CHEAP.
– I’m not sure the Bella Band was worth it, and I’m glad I took others’ advice and only bought one. I wore the thing for about a week, although the way it was hyped, I was expecting Jesus himself to come hold my pants up for the duration of its use.
– Edited to add thanks to Pork with Bones that YES OF COURSE, I have loved Target! How could I forget that long-ago, longed-for trip to Target to visit Liz Lange and her clothing of joy?
– I believe I can make it through the majority of this pregnancy (first and second trimester at least) without wearing a single maternity shirt, thanks to today’s generous styles and the return of the empire waist. I tried on one of those godawful belly strap-ons with a bagful of large tops recently purchased at Old Navy, and lo, there was still plenty of room beyond the … strap-on (oh God). I’m not sure if this would be true of second pregnancies, as you tend to get bigger, faster, but for now, I am running like the wind from the maternity shirt. Why? Because the vast majority of them — even those from places like the Gap — feature strings, ropes, buttons, bells and bizarre ties in the back designed to make you look huge all over, not just the belly. They also conveniently come to one’s knees, giving the illusion of the minidress over leggings trend, but without the streamlined appearance. Also, this length DOES NOT DISSIPATE, even with a large belly, thanks to the … strap-on. (It’s a drinking game!)
Is this a myth? Am I fooling myself?
– Buying jeans are a miserable adventure in Panel Confusion. Full panel? Hidden panel? Adjustable panel? Roll panel? Demi panel? Semi-demi panel? I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. So far, I’m favoring the demi and hidden panels, as the idea of a giant sock over my belly makes me want to throw up even more than I already do. And the hidden panel jeans I bought at The Gap make me feel more human than any other item of clothing I’ve worn so far. They fit like ACTUAL JEANS, like they would on an ACTUAL, NON-PREGNANT PERSON. And the … strap-on … fit above the waistband. This reminds me, too, that Gap’s jeans are the first that fit true to pre-pregnancy size, if not a bit bigger. I was an eight in Gap regular jeans, I’m a six or an eight in Gap maternity. I imagine this is true for Old Navy as well.
But I ask you, does the belly eventually feel like a giant breast that must be supported with something bra-like? I’m 16 weeks and have no need for the belly sock. When does this happen, if ever?
Dear lord, I think I’ve gone on enough. I’m scared.
Happy Wednesday!
*Stone Temple Pilots. Because I never grew out of the early ’90s, I suppose.
63 comments September 16th, 2008