One thing about being pregnant is it is making me very, very nostalgic about baby Sym. This is probably normal, but at least once a week (AT LEAST) I find myself going through all the old pictures and getting emotional. Then I start thinking about how when she was little I didn’t go back to work until she was three, and all the special Mommy/Symmie time we had, and how I’m not going to be able to do that with this baby (unless someone starts dropping sackfuls of money in my lap) and then I feel guilty as hell. But hey, at least I get a year, right? Thanks, Canada!
Anyway, to mark my blubbery emotional nostalgia, here are some pictures of my beautiful darling daughter as a baby.
These pictures are from when she was 1-6 months old, but trust me when I say SHE JUST KEPT GETTING CUTER.
The post I had originally planned for this week was about a different type of fashion, ADORABLE BABY FASHION. I was going to post pictures of all the tiny little clothes I’ve bought for Baby Laramie so far (for the record the first time I went baby clothes shopping was TWO DAYS after my positive pregnancy test) and we were all gonna squeal with delight and make cutie faces all over the place :3 :3 :3 Then something happened that got me all het up and I decided to make this post instead since it’s about something that’s important to me: BODY SHAMING OF PREGNANT WOMEN.
If you follow me on twitter you may have noticed me having a little snit-fit last Thursday evening about a very popular blogger, who is also currently pregnant, and who in a fashion post linked to a dress and said the dress’s sleeves would be perfect to “hide those pregnancy arms.” OH HALE NO. PREGNANCY ARMS??? WHAT EVEN THE. Yeah. I flipped out. This isn’t a call-out post: she and I talked and she deleted the offending remark and apologized. I really and truly believe she didn’t mean to be rude in her original statement, so please don’t go saying anything mean, we all make mistakes, she’s a human being, nobody’s perfect, it’s fine. However, the whole incident did serve to highlight a problem that puts me into a rage blackout, and it’s this: so much of maternity fashion seems to be about hiding and diguising the fact that you are pregnant, like a pregnant body is something you have to be ashamed of.
I’m pregnant. Why should I hide myself? I’m not ashamed or embarrassed of how I look when I’m not pregnant so why should I be now when I am? Shouldn’t I be celebrating my wonderful life-growing earth mother womanliness? Why then, when I look for decent looking, reasonably priced maternity clothes that fit* (that I DON’T have to order online) do I find nothing but clothes designed to hide as much of the body as humanly possibly? Huge wide-legged jeans (to hide those pregnancy legs), Bermuda-length jorts (to hide those pregnancy thighs), vast high-necked one piece swimsuits (to hide those pregnancy upper chests) and thick heavy tops with 3/4 sleeves and ruching all over the whole thing (to hide those pregnancy torsos and arms). By the way, ruching is the bane of my life, what is all that fabric even for? I swear designers think that if you ruche all over clothes for fat or pregnant women all the gathers will somehow minimize their bodies? Here’s a newsflash: it doesn’t and it looks gross as hell. BAN RUCHING NOW.
The problem is there seems to be this attitude that the only people who actually look beautiful when they are pregnant are women who already fit into the societal standard of physical attractiveness. You have to still be skinny and have nice boobs and slender arms and legs, but just stick a cute little round belly on the front, which of course will flatten down to nothing .5 seconds after you finish giving birth. It’s like we’re all supposed to be Happy Family Midge dolls: pop off the round belly, remove the baby and pop on the flat belly. EASY PEASY!
sorry this video is en français; I couldn’t find the english version but you get the gist
… and WOE BETIDE if you gain weight anywhere else on your body or get stretchmarks or EVEN WORSE if you were already fat or even average-sized when you got pregnant, because you are gonna have to hide all your regular “flaws” as well as all your new “flaws.” Like there’s only one way for women to look, and if you don’t fit into that narrow definition then you have to scramble around, looking for “flattering” clothes to try and trick people into thinking you’re taller or thinner or larger breasted or smaller assed or less pregnant than you really are**.
Eleven years ago when I was pregnant with Sym I was very, very insecure about my body and the changes to it. I felt sad and ugly all of the time. It was my first pregnancy and I was young and I didn’t have a lot of positive and supportive people in my life. I even had one “friend” who LITERALLY cackled when she found out I was pregnant and crowed in delight “You’re gonna get so fat!” Like fat is a worse thing to be than say…. a horrible mean body shaming asshole? Whatever to that girl, we not longer speak. But if she’s reading this: CHRISTINE, I THINK YOU ARE A BAD PERSON.
The timing for that pregnancy was exactly the same as for this one (What can I say, I’m consistent!) and I was pretty pregnant over the summer. It was hot, there was a bus strike going on and I had to walk to work at my two jobs. I was carrying extra weight and I don’t know if you all know this, but when you are pregnant your body has more blood and fluids in it, so you sweat more. Especially when it’s hot, and you’re walking all the way across town to some crappy job.
One day in late summer I was on my daily trek, wearing shorts and a tank top. These were not maternity clothes- we were poor as hell and I couldn’t afford to splash out on a whole new wardrobe (which kind of explains the stupidly expensive Hatch Collection maternity dress I’m wearing now as I type this). The shorts belonged to my then-boyfriend and the top was a pre-pregnancy one of mine, probably from like Le Chateau or something. It was a tiny scootch too short and I was showing about one inch of baby belly. Some random guy came up to me and asked “Are you pregnant? How far along?” I answered “Seven months,” and he said “Maybe it’s time for you to think about getting a longer shirt so people don’t have to see that,” aaaand then he sped away on his bike while I stood there blinking back tears on the street corner and screaming “FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU” ineffectually at the sky. IT STILL GRINDS MY GEARS TO THIS DAY.
The idea that anyone has the right to dictate what is or is not appropriate for a woman to wear when she is pregnant (or, you know. EVER) drives me out of my mind. You know what are the right clothes to wear when you are pregnant? Whatever clothes you want to wear, whatever clothes you feel most comfortable in! You don’t want to show a bunch of skin? Cool, cover up as much as you want! You want to wear frayed daisy dukes and a Budweiser string bikini top? Do that too! Maybe you don’t like the way your arms look. Wear a dress with sleeves, but do it because it makes you feel good, not because you’re afraid other people are judging you and your pregnant arms. Be happy and comfortable in your body and wear clothes that make you feel that way. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t wear a minidress or a tank top or a crop top or a cropped tank top or a bikini, or an ankle-length skirt or overalls or a muumuu or a parka or anything else you like. Wear a big black plastic flight suit like in that old Missy Elliot video. Wear body paint. Wear a tuxedo. Wear leggings as pants with a shirt that doesn’t cover your butt. Wear what makes you feel good about yourself, not what other people shame you into wearing.
And here’s a newsflash for all the bad friends and rude strangers and misguided clothing designers of the world: I’M NOT GONNA HIDE MY PREGNANT BODY. I’m gonna wear what I want when I want, and if you don’t like it then that’s your problem, not mine. So go fuck yourself.
Everyone else: I’ll post all those cute baby clothes next week :3 :3 :3
* I wouldn’t have any of these problems if the Gap would just carry maternity clothes in their Canadian stores. WHY YOU GOTTA PLAY ME LIKE THIS, GAP? I JUST WANNA BUY YOUR SKINNY JEANS. Ugh they won’t even ship maternity stuff here, it sucks. I guess Asos is gonna be getting all of my maternity dollars.
** I HAAAAAATE the concept of “flattering” clothing. I’ve unsubscribed from pretty much every magazine I’ve ever read because there’s always some story on how to dress to “flatter your body,” but it’s always about hiding these perceived and totally bogus flaws. My smart and beautiful friend Bronny, who blogs at Fat Aus has a great video about “flattering” clothing and why it is such a bs concept that you should definitely check out. Warning: there is lots of cussing in this video, but she has a pretty sweet Australian accent soooo….
Fun fact: I’m NOT wearing a maternity shirt. This is a REGULAR shirt from Urban Outfitters (which I also bought in black and grey). Oh sure, it’s oversized and one-size-fits all, but when I look at it on my 5’9″ pregnant body and imagine some 5’2″ skinny girl wearing it I lol for days. Anyway it’s kind of see-through and shows my bra but I don’t care, I love it anyway AND it’s on sale for $19. On the site they only have black, grey, cream and red but at the store I went to they also had pink, orange, green and the blue one I’m wearing here.
After last weeks pictures I really felt like I needed to step up my makeup game, like where even is my mouth in those pics??? After haranguing my internet peers for tips on lip colour that I would be less likely to smear all over my face, I ran out to the drugstore last night and bought Revlon Lip Butter in Candy Apple. I actually really like it but I still look like a cadaver! I swear I’m wearing blush here, ugh when will summer become summer so I can get a sweet tan (through my SPF 50 sunscreen of course) and stop looking like the recently deceased? At least I finally coloured my roots though.
I wish my husband’s dog would be friends with my dog the way my cat is. At least when my cat and my dog fight it is good-natured and not a desperate struggle of life & death.
Nice how after all my BIG TALK last week about being organized and on a schedule for my blog posts I was SUPER disorganized and late this week. I guess that’s how it goes sometimes. OH WELL.
ANYWAY. These are the nails I’ve been planning since I first got the neon red polish. I think they turned out pretty well, especially considering this is the first time I’ve attempted something other than just a basic manicure in about a million years, and the first time I’ve really and truly succeeded in taping off parts of my nails to make a design. The angles and lines aren’t perfect but I’m not mad.
Claire was taking advantage of this sunbeam before it moved on.
No manicure today; I’ve been super busy doing stuff with my hands (cleaning, crafting, colouring my hair, eating pomegranates) which precluded painting my nails, especially the fancy way I want to paint them. Hopefully I will have them done tomorrow. Maybe. I still have one pomegranate left.
Yesterday Sym participated in the Starbucks Run for Women 1k for girls under 12, raising $185 for Plan Canada’s Because I’m a Girl initiative. Thank you so much to everyone who donated!
Yay Symmie!! Honestly though I don’t think she enjoyed doing it and from now on she might just go running with her dad for fun.
The run was at UBC (the University of British Columbia) by Thunderbird Stadium. I didn’t know how long it would take to get there and didn’t want to be late (I actually had an anxiety dream about missing the whole thing, except in my dream it was a 1k for POMERANIANS and I had planned on entering Georgie in it, wtf brain) so we took a cab out there, which cost approximately ONE MILLION DOLLARS, so we decided to take the bus back. Seeing as how I attended two Lollapalooza concerts there in the early 90s (YEAH I DID) I erroneously believed it would be super easy to get a bus. THIS WAS NOT THE CASE. UBC is huge and confusing and we seriously wandered around for a million years, finding nothing but bus stops for busses that didn’t run on the weekend. When we finally found one where other people we waiting I REFUSED to move, insisting on taking the first bus that came along that would get us OUT of the university. Which we did, and it actually worked out because the bus took us to the station to get a train that would take us the Michael’s, where I needed to pick up some glitter and ribbon for banners. But. Michael’s is on Broadway, which is basically 9th Avenue. We caught the bus on 16th Ave and it let us off on 41st. WE WENT FIFTY-SIX BLOCKS OUT OF OUR WAY. Lesson learned, from now on I will always figure out bus routes ahead of time.
