A hearty "amen"

Here's a lighthearted change of pace. Deathly serious, though. Copied from another great link from Amy:

Fashion left me behind about ten years ago when everything switched to stretchy, drapy super-snaggable polyblends and 1970s patterns. I am hoping that eighteen months from now, when my body has settled into whatever it decides is post-baby normal and I need to finally replace my wardrobe, clothing will once again be tailored, monochrome and 100% cotton.

Fingers crossed.

For now, I am still in the purgatory of maternity clothes. And I have a few words to say on the subject.

Designers, listen. I know we’re not friends. You don’t like me and I don’t like you. I don’t spend nearly enough on clothes to be your target market, and you make clothes apparently only to pain and insult me. Your maternity clothes seem designed around skinny women wearing artificial belly bumps rather than real women with real pregnancies. I am going to charitably assume that you design the clothes you do out of well-meaning ignorance rather than sadistic scorn for heterosexual procreators, so I’m going to help you out with a little advice.

3. A pregnant woman’s stomach extends more than two inches below her belly button. I realize that in your youthful days you may have found a little breeze down there kinda sexy. I do not find breezes sexy. I find them drafty. And I would like to be able to walk down the stairs without everyone below me staring fixedly at the two inches of exposed stretch marks that are feeling a chill because you can’t make a shirt that meets my pants. And this is not a size issue. Lane Bryant’s maternity clothes do the same stupid thing.

4. I do not actually want to share my cleavage with the world. They will get enough of an eyeful once I’m nursing. Until then, kindly give me a neckline that allows me to bend over and pick up my current children without flashing the old man sitting next to me.

To read the rest of her advice, click here.