I Would Call My Fashion Sense…

I would call my fashion sense “clothes that still fit”. 

Spent an entire Sunday walking round Halifax to find maternity clothes as I amcurrently down to one pair of jeans due to having cut my second to last pair of jeans down the front with a pair of kitchen scissors. Hey they fit, but they were mighty uncomfortable and in the heat of the moment a pair of scissors seemed like the best option. So Sunday was undoubtedly a good day because I was taking mum out for belated Mother’s day celebrations and it was lovely. But not so good because everything thing I tried on fit but cut in the wrong places…. cut mid bump isn’t flattering. Having two bumps is not attractive. Not one single shop stocked maternity wear. Not one single shop!

So in the safety of my own home, in a dress that is getting shorter by the day due to a growing mid section, I ventured into the world of online shopping.  The world of New Look online shopping. And my goodness I had fun adding it all to the basket and picking out a few tops to go with the jeans and work trousers I’d chosen. 

Today my choices arrived, I waited patiently till I got home to pull the garments out of there neat plastic bags. I even waited right before bed time before trying the new purchases on. BIG MISTAKE! 

I don’t know which was the biggest mistake, thinking online shopping would be easy or thinking I’d look as sweet as the models did on the effing website. Now I don’t class myself as a “big girl”, normally a size 8. But my goodness, the shapelessness of the tops I’ve ended up with makes me look positively mammoth. And I know my boobs have swelled to 2 cup sizes more and I known my waist is slowly disappearing into a gelatinous mass. But dear New Look; my size 8 ass still fits in my size 8 jeans I just can’t do them up because of impending child. 

There was one point where I announced  our pregnancy, a “boy” (and I use the term boy because that exactly describes some people I know) said that “it wouldn’t matter what you wear, you will end up looking like you’re wearing a tent anyway”. Well gee thanks! I hope that if you are one day lucky enough to get someone pregnant (thats assuming you managed to get laid first) you finally understand what that set of kind words has done to a woman’s complex. As if it wasn’t difficult enough to adjust and accommodate AND to grow a human child?!  

So all the shapeless tent tops are going to be returned. Luckily the jeans and work trousers are a win, I’m sure I can squeeze my ever expanding waistline and baps into stretchy vest tops I own at least that will mean I don’t have to wear pj’s to work. Which by the way is looking like a mighty fine option right about now. 

Dear child of mine, it’s a very good job that my love for you is beyond measure. No one has ever been worth my waistline until you. 

Blessings from the waist (it’s bigger than my heart at current),

L xox

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