Stylish mums-to-be rejoice!

Paige Premium Denim has introduced its first ever maternity denim legging — and they’re beyond chic. Designed in skinny style  celebrity  mums are queuing up to wear these ultra flattering, super sexy fit, super comfy jeans.

Not only are they made of lightweight denim with 4-way stretch, but the waistband features comfy inset elastic side panels for extra belly room and support. Celebrity super fan Isla Fisher was first on the list to try these gorgeous jeans before they even went into production.  Don’t hesitate buy your super chic jeggings now!

As a fashion editor, I had tons of fancy shymancy events to attend while pregnant. One day I was in the tub trying to cook up something creative for one such event and started thinking about my grandma Hilda’s collection of night gowns. Going to bed was a ritual for my granny. She took a fragrant bath, then slipped into a nightie/robe set. They were fifth avenue fabu, silky floor-sweeping affairs emblazoned in racy leopard, tiger & Pucci prints. I mulled it over. A night on the town in a comfy nightgown was truly the marriage of desire (staying at home and watching The Office) and professional. I went for it Hilda’s leopard night gown (worn with a boa and Chanel wedges) was a hit. Thus began my love affair of inner wear as outerwear.

TEST DRIVE INNERWEAR AS RTW: Underpinnings give major look for minor dough. A bias cut slip layered with a belted cardigan and funky jewelry offers Desperately Seeking Susan meets Mrs. Robinson cache. How to get the look? Make a pit stop at some of your chic septuagenarian relatives’ homes and mine their lingerie drawers. Nab gauzy nightgowns, caftans, “bed jackets” and slips. Flea markets and vintage shops are nightgown nirvana. Roomy black satin slips make comfy chic dresses. Bias cut long nighties, especially those with interesting swirls of color or prints, make glam cocktail frocks. Little Pucci-esque robes can be belted and worn with a heel.

I wrote last week’s blog still high on the post-birth rush of hormones. Those same hormones – or perhaps slightly different ones, I’m not an expert – then reduced me to a soggy mess of tears of exhaustion and incomprehension in the face of a seemingly permanently crying/ hungry baby, who’s nappy needed changing almost hourly and who has developed an amazing ability to be sick all over both of us, on an unerringly regular basis.

 

Fortunately, Sholto’s health is not in question. He is gaining weight in a manner that makes the midwife smile, and is already more than he was when he was born. And I managed to get through all of yesterday without crying once. Two things have helped enormously, and made all the difference to the hours I seem to spend breastfeeding:

1.) I have rigged up my laptop in the nursery. Not only can I now reply to emails while the baby is feeding, peruse Mumsnet for tales of new mothers having a much worse time than me

(whichshouldn’t make me feel better, but it does), I can also watch DVDs. Thank God I didn’t get into box sets while I was waiting to give birth – else what would I be watching now? (I can also internet shop, but my husband has started reading this blog so I don’t want to give details – suffice to say that I have been perusing the new collection on this site, however!)

 

2.) There’s an article in the September issue of Vogue, by Frances Bentley, on meditation. Now, I’ve never really been into meditation before – I don’t even have the patience for yoga – but I read the article at half past four one morning, while feeding, and it struck a nerve. These past couple of weeks it has become blindingly apparent that I no longer have any control over my life – oh, I can try, but ultimately I’m at the mercy of a baby with no cognitive ability who lives by a four hour clock as opposed to our twenty four hour clock – and suddenly meditation seemed like a very viable coping mechanism. “I’ll go to some classes when Sholto is a little older and I can leave him,” I thought – but the author of the piece very kindly took the time to point out to me that I could still achieve something even with a baby on my breast, and suggested that I just concentrate on breathing in and out. I don’t do this at every feed, but certainly I’ve been doing it at night. It relaxes me enormously, and, as a bonus, it seems to help Sholto too. He goes straight back to sleep when he’s finished suckling.

 

On a more practical level, and for anyone who is expecting their baby soon, the one thing I have discovered is that I need more of everything. More babygros (Mothercare for everyday, Marie Chantal for visitors), more front opening night dresses (Sholto is perfectly capable of being sick twice in one hour!), and, definitely, more sleep . . .

With your belly bursting triumphantly from restraining waistbands, this is the time to evaluate your body type and establish your personal pregnancy ‘look’.

 

DO you have boobs? A think mid-section? A generous rear? Sky high supermodel gams? Body tye figures heavily into whether the cut of the garment , or silhouette will be flattering or not.

PROPORTION, PROPORTION, PROPORTION! Nothing frumpifies more than oversized clothing and lack of proportion.. Some guidelines? If it’s big on top, it should be narrow on bottom. If it is narrow on top, you can add some volume with a skirt or wide legged pant. Skirts and dresses should be above the knee or sweeping the ground to elongate the body. Legs are slimmed and lengthened with black tights and a boot or heels. Big blouses are countered with fitted skirts or tapered trousers. Tailoring is critical.
Shorter hemlines, especially for shorter women, accent the legs and add height.

I am just over half way there, finally!

 

I have recently had my 20 week scan which revealed much to our surprise (and
joy!) that we are having a girl! We were convinced it was a boy (savoury cravings – more crisps please – faster growing hair and nails, hungry all the time….) so much for old wives tales! The scan also showed I have a low-lying placenta which apparently is very common at 20 weeks (one in 5
women) and by the 32 week scan, most of the time the placenta will have moved up to where it should be. If not, I am told I will have to have a caesarean. Move up please!

 

I now really do have a well-rounded bump. Not that I didn’t a few weeks ago but people weren’t quite sure then, if I was pregnant or had just eaten a hearty breakfast. At least that is what I told myself every morning when I got on the tube and nobody stood up for the pregnant lady. To be honest, they still don’t. A (very pregnant) friend told me that I really need to play it up, rub my tummy and stick my middle section out as far forward as I can, and eventually someone will give up their seat for me. This does the trick only 50% of the time and even then it is only women that get up – thanks guys!

 

Of course a well-rounded bump comes with the need for new clothing that actually fit, look good and are stylish. Lesley Regan suggests in her book (Your Pregnancy Week By Week) “try to resist the urge to buy new clothing at this stage, try wearing your partners jeans and shirts”. Not happening Lesley! Apart from looking rather ridiculous – I work in fashion. Surely that would be career suicide. Luckily Cos and Topshop have been my saviours. For bottoms I have been living in my Paige straight leg maternity jeans, which are so comfortable and dark denim so I have been able to wear them to work.

 

Now that summer is almost over I have to start thinking about an Autumn/Winter wardrobe. Apparently your feet can grow a whole extra size when you are pregnant which means that sadly, my current winter boots will no longer fit. The search begins…

Sholto Isambard Tatlin Allardyce Steel was born on Saturday 31st July, at about eight o’clock at night, weighing seven pounds nine ounces. My labour was textbook: I woke up in the morning having very mild contractions approximately fifteen minutes apart; my waters broke in a gush at half past ten on standing up from the breakfast table; by two o’clock the contractions had become properly painful, and at about half past four we realised that it was time to head for St. Mary’s. I was put straight into the birthing pool, and a lot of gas and air later, was presented with my son.

 

I realise that it makes it sound very easy, and in a way it was. However I don’t want to gloss over everything in a totally unrealistic fashion; yes, giving birth is the most painful thing that I’ve ever done – but, even immediately afterwards, my thoughts on the pain were “Well, it could have been worse.” And yes, there are those unattractive things that happen that one worries about beforehand, and, well, yes they do happen. But you know what? In the grand scheme of things, they become totally unimportant. (If anyone would like specifics, I am more than happy to answer questions, but I’m not going into details in a public domain!)

 

And, now on day six, my body is well on the way to recovery (I can recommend arnica pills, incidentally – they really help with the post-birthing ache) and the breastfeeding and changing routine is becoming almost second nature. Of course I’m tired – make that exhausted, even – but Sholto makes everything more than worthwhile. The greatest surprise has been the overwhelming love and protective urge that I feel for him. You see, I’ve never really been particularly interested in babies – I’ve always preferred puppies and kittens – and one of my greatest worries in the later stages of pregnancy was that I wouldn’t have any maternal instinct. It turns out I do.

 

I’m still desperate for my body to feel like my own again. And I don’t care if saying this smacks of vanity when I should still be marvelling at the wonders of nature. I know that I’m voicing the opinion of many, many women. What I can say is this: having beautiful nightwear and attractive nursing bras makes an enormous difference in the immediate post-birth period (my mother is very jealous of my Amoralia numbers – “We had nothing like that in my day darling – mine were all hideous!”) There is plenty of time for long baths and the slathering on of one’s favourite moisturiser while the baby is asleep. Oh, and empire line dresses with pretty cardigans are still the key to daytime dressing – it would be too cruel to force my body into Spanx straight away.

 

What I have got to do is work out which of my clothes are going to work for breastfeeding. Issa cross-over dresses are a definite, but I’d like to see what else I can find in my wardrobe. And in the September issue of Vogue, out now with all the new collections . . . .

We would like to send a HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to our lovely blogger Fiona, who gave birth to a baby boy on Saturday the 31st of July. We would all like to wish Fiona and her brand new little family the very best wishes for the future, and thank her for sharing her pregnancy journey with us all, we look forward to her future posts as a proud new yummy mummy.

I’ve started cleaning. Finally. And it’s as if I can’t stop. The only thing getting in the way is my enormous stomach – why this instinct only kicks in four days before my due date, I just don’t know. It would have been much easier even a month ago!  But no matter.  And between scrubbing the bath, bleaching the kitchen sink, and persuading a spider family that they would prefer to live with the sweet peas than with us, I have also been on a throwing out session, which I’m counter balancing with some serious stockpiling.

However, I don’t seem to be stockpiling food, or anything else that would be useful for us as a family.  Rather, I’m ensuring that I have enough Clarins, Kerastase, Basq and Mama Mio products to last me for roughly the next year.  God forbid I should run out of serum.  I’m not buying for the baby in quite the same way, as that would be tempting fate (we’ve only bought enough nappies to last a week, even) – also, while I don’t mind my husband knowing how much baby stuff costs, I live in fear of his discovering how much I spend on myself.  He’d doubtlessly suggest I substitute butter and olive oil for the pretty pots and bottles on my dressing table.

 

But my newly acquired sudden burst of energy is not only being directed into cleaning.  I’ve also been spending lots of time with my husband, which has been lovely.  I would advise anyone who is in the same position as me, i.e. on the verge of giving birth, to do the same, if they can.  It suddenly struck me – it’s not going to be just the two of us again for years!  We went to the Tate Britain on Sunday, and looked at the jet fighters currently on display in the ground floor galleries.  Andrew took photographs of our reflections – I look even more enormous than I actually am!  And last night, we went on a proper date: dinner and the theatre.  There’s a trilogy of plays about Afghanistan on at the Tricyle Theatre in Kilburn – The Great Game – which I can definitely recommend; not only are the plays brilliant, but one can park easily and the theatre itself, with it’s air conditioning, padded bench seating and ample leg room,  is perhaps the most comfortable theatre in London for someone who is thirty-nine and a half week’s pregnant.  We saw part one, I guess whether or not we manage to see parts two and three is entirely dependent on when this baby decides to make his appearance . . .

 

In the mean time, there’s more cleaning to do – oh, and I need some more scented candles, too, and I’ve had the most genius idea:  I’m going to order them from Mama Mio, and claim that they’re for the baby, an essential . . .