My little boy is now nine and a half weeks, like the film, only cuter and less need for dodgey food scenes. In two and a half weeks I am going to my big brother’s wedding.
I am left with the age old question of “What am I going to wear?”. Only in my case, with my post pregnancy lumpy bits and bigger than normal boobs, it’s more like “What on Earth am I going to wear”?, said while running about in circles, waving my hands about and pulling very silly faces of distress and woe!
I’m now 39, and have found a significant difference with my figure. It’s quite startling. After having my first son, who is now 16 years old, I bounced back fairly quickly in my opinion. It feels like a long time ago, but I don’t recall feeling like The Blob for long, nor feeling like I needed to hide away for fear of offending the general public!
Of course I may be wrong, and my memory may be not quite accurate. I am after all reminded by several friends that it is only 9 and a half weeks since I had the wee man.
OK OK OK.
So, I accept the obvious, I accept that I don’t have the figure I had a year ago. I accept that very little in my own wardrobe will fit me presently. With this in mind I would like to achieve the following:
- Feel nice on the day
- Look half decent on the day
- Not spend too much on new outfit
- Be comfy, and practical as I may still be breast feeding then!
- In feeling nice and looking half decent, I would like to have an ounce of confidence back.
A tall order? Perhaps.
I have a dress I bought from Next. I think it’s more like something you’d take on holiday to lounge in the evening. It’s strapless, long and doesn’t cling to the figure. Around the bustline it has a delicate pattern of pink beads. Rather sweet. So perhaps a winner, and means I don’t have to buy something brand new now.
Feet, now this is a problem. Anyone that knows me will know I am a fond lover of shoes. And when you say that word, you must say it the correct way. It’s more like “shooooooes”. I have a lovely collection of fabulous shoes in my bedroom, on lovely shelves I lovingly made for them, with a back drop of mirrors and fairy lights, I also lovingly made for them. And yet there is a problem, all the shoes have significant heels.
Why are heels a problem? For one, I don’t want to carry wee man about in four inch heels. I fell once with Lucy when she was a baby, and I never want to go through that again. And secondly, my back and knees haven’t yet recovered from pregnancy. I think I would be a cripple by the end of the day if I wore heels. So heels are out. Sadly.
I shall apologise to my lovely dust collecting shoes later. I’m sure they will forgive me in good time.
The only pumps I currently have are the ones I wear every day. Silver and sweet, but worn out. I shall have to go on a pump hunt.
Now then, there is something else in my outfit. Not a hat, nor any accessories. It’s underwear! This post pregnancy body of mine is a funny shape. It’s my tummy. It doesn’t just exist as a tummy, it flails about, not knowing quite how far to stretch out. Commonly known as “my wobbly bits”!
There is a scene in The Sex and The City 2 film (yes, I am a fan of SATC) where the girls are discussing their figures. Samantha talks of fooling her body with the pills she is taking. Miranda meanwhile says “I’m tricking my body into thinking it’s thinner, SPANX! “. I love it. I love the way she says it, I love that it’s said even. SATC is very image conscious, so to talk of needing shapewear underwear kind of puts the girls in a level where we can almost see eye to eye. (if it weren’t for the designer clothes and the tiny bottoms)!
So, I got to thinking about SPANX, or any such shapewear underwear. Also helped by the fact that Figleaves are sending me emails daily reminding me to buy buy buy! (I got my nursing bras there).
I had a browse and found some scary items, some actually rather nice items and some plain horrendous items. Some of the shapewear looks great. It looks like it really would do wonders.
I’ve always been a little scared of it though. Worried it would just push the wobbly bits about, to places I don’t want them. Or feel so uncomfortable I wouldn’t be able to sit down. Does it take half an hour to go to the loo, as you have to wriggle in and out of them? Do you feel really self conscious in such items? What happens if the husband sees them?
I’m reminded of a bit in Bridget Jones, The edge of reason book, where Bridget is wearing tummy control pants and is so scared of Mark groping them she gets all jumpy, and he notices. Amusing, but how true is this?
So just how good are these items? There are so many, I don’t know what to actually consider. Bits for just the tummy, just the bum, bits for your entire torso, bust lifting, waist pinching, bottom firming! Why can’t I have a personal shopper, someone that knows exactly what I want, and without so much as a tape measure in sight, or the embarrassment of trying on, or changing rooms, or even the disappointment of getting something online only to find it is the wrong size? Am I living in cloud cuckoo land?
It worries me a little that the models on the photos are already slim. They aren’t me shaped. They look lovely in these odd looking items, but will I?
I have two and a half weeks to sort this. While looking after the nine and a half week old, a husband, Rhys, Lucy and Neets, three cats and life in general. I barely find enough time to wash my hair these days, will I be able to attend this wedding looking remotely presentable?