I expected pregnancy to result in an utter fashion meltdown. Instead, I found the opposite: new designers, bold silhouettes, and, yes, one perfect pair of mom-to-be jeans.
It’s a little embarrassing: I’ve worked in fashion for 15 years, and yet for most of that time, I haven’t been obviously stylish. Which is not to say I’d been badly dressed—just a bit quietlydressed, perhaps. Years ago, I settled on a relatively hip, if limited, signature look of abstract floral dresses with, say, my trusty green military jacket. It allows me to wear designers I love while bestowing certain kindnesses upon my 5’3″ “voluptuous meets athletic” frame (as described by my lovingly diplomatic husband). Adhering to this uniform from the runway sidelines—literally—I’ve watched one trend after another march past. Of course, it’s worth noting that lots of fashion stalwarts pick a look and “make it their own,” season in and season out. And, as a fashion writer, I like to believe my bosses have been more concerned with my content than my clothes; I’m expected to say something witty and on point about a collection, sparking trends with what I write, not what I wear. But I can’t pretend I haven’t felt, from time to time, as if I was missing out on some of the clotheshorse fun my profession is supposed to afford.
Then I got pregnant.