This whole dressing while pregnant thing isn't easy. Especially when there are no maternity stores on island. The idea of buying a size up sounds good in theory, but then everything just feels oversized. I'm all about showing off this little lady as she grows. This BCBG skirt still loves me, but it's one of the few things from my old wardrobe that does.
I'm learning the keys to not feeling like a large slob are exercise (thank you Physique 57 pregnancy modifications!), a good diet, accessories, heels, and refusing to give up my personal style. Hopefully those will carry me through to October and then the fabled fourth trimester (where you're no longer pregnant but according to your body you might as well be). For a brunch date with Seth and friends I tried to feel like myself by combining stripes with my snakeskin bag. I love mixing patterns. This is pretty tame but I have to work with what I've got. Most of my maternity tops are pretty bleh basic so far.
Look at that well-loved bag! It looks a lot more well-loved (read: worn out) in person. This poor puppy needs to be replaced something terrible, but I also need shorts that zip up all the way, so a new bag will have to wait.
Look at that well-loved bag! It looks a lot more well-loved (read: worn out) in person. This poor puppy needs to be replaced something terrible, but I also need shorts that zip up all the way, so a new bag will have to wait.
BCBG stripes and bag; maternity top, from friend; shoes, Nine West (old); belt, street fair in London; baby girl starting to creep outward in the stomach region, my own creation; |
Seth and I have been trying to take more time together: joint trips grocery shopping, work day lunches, weekend coffee runs. This was a Sunday Brunch with friends at Hook, Line, & Sinker in Frenchtown. These days when I go there all I want is eggs benedict, which is off limit because supposedly the runny eggs can kill baby girl. No bueno. So I've been going for their burgers, which I'd never gotten at brunch but they're fantastic. Of course I have to ask for them well done (for the same reason as the runny eggs) and I feel like a total pansy. Growing up, my Syrian family often offered raw lamb dishes at family gatherings. Straight up raw. Like no one even pretended to try and cook it. So I have a thing for raw meat. But well done it is. And I always mention that I'm pregnant when I ask for my well done burger, lest anyone think I'm a wuss.