Absolutely Nothing To Wear when you’re pregnant….

Let me start by saying I’m NOT pregnant but have written this for a few fabulous girlfriends who are.

There has to be more to pregnancy fashion than elasticated waists and smock tops. There just has to be. But what? I’ve been through it twice now and remember it oh so very clearly indeed. For someone who loves clothes and adores dressing up in the morning, I was pretty excited at the prospect of finding a whole new style of my own…..that was the first pregnancy, by the second I was sick to the back teeth of it and didn’t really put a huge amount of effort in to the style side of having a baby.

Child number one was conceived and carried and given birth to in London where I was still working and life had to pretty much carry on as normal. I had to be well turned out every single day and although the sample rail was pretty much out of bounds after the first 3 months, I had find a way to dress up and look the part. I always like to look for a style muse at times like these, someone I admire and would quite happily fashionably emulate. My pregnancy muse number 1 was Sofia Coppola. She did a smock, swing and shift dress better than anyone I’d ever seen and always looked chic and neat and stylishly preppy. My ideal look. So that’s what I did. I didn’t buy a single piece of maternity wear, I didn’t go near any skinny jeans with massive elasticated waists – they’ve always terrified me those things – I just decided jeans were out for the next year or so and alternatives had to be found. I wore dresses, every single day. Dresses I already had in my wardrobe paired with tights, or leggings when the sun came out, and all worn with some rather fabulous patent Celine pumps which I bought in 4 colours – pink, yellow, red and cream. PPQ smock dresses proved the best, as did American Retro (I bought two brilliant ones in Paris) and COS was my saviour for long sleeve cotton tees which covered both bump and bottom beautifully and they also do some of the very best oversized but flattering shirts, dresses and sweaters you’re likely to find on the highstreet. The other thing I love about COS, while I’m on the subject again, are the fabrics. Never cheap, always long lasting no matter now many times you wash and superbly comfortable to wear whatever “state” you may be in.

The last few weeks before baby number 1 arrived and I stopped work, I lived in my husbands Intimissimi pants, a pair of his old Levis and enormous t-shirts and vests. Needless to say I didn’t really care anymore I just wanted to get on with it and stop feeling gigantic.

Baby number 2 was a different matter all together. We’d moved to the countryside, I was working part time as a PR consultant whilst looking after my 1 year old, and I felt completely dreadful pretty much all the time. Dresses and patent pumps were no longer necessary – more was the shame – and I found myself in leggings for the most part worn with my faithful COS long sleeved tees and 3 brilliant maternity cardigans from Marks and Spencers. 2 black and 1 dark grey. I think they call them “Waterfall” cardigans, long on the sides and shorter at the back. Marvelous for covering up whilst being surprisingly flattering and incredibly easy to wear. And when it got hot – both my boys were Summer babies – I went kaftan crazy. Wore one every day for the last few weeks and loved every minute of it. So by the time he arrived I was freckled and fat and floating around Oxfordshire, dressed like a very happy hippy indeed.

So in conclusion, my tips for as stylish a pregnancy as possible are as follows – invest in some pretty pumps which you like looking at – even when you can’t see your feet any more, other people can and pretty shoes are important – go to COS and stock up on long sleeve tees, the ones with the thumb holes are the best, and wear dresses as much as you can – you can just belt them when your waistline goes back to normal. Finally get yourself a couple of M&S cardigans to keep everything looking tidy. Oh and leggings are a must I’m afraid. I found American Apparel do the best cotton lycra ones which are long and don’t bag at the knee too prematurely. The last thing you need to be worrying about is baggy knees, it’s enough to spoil the entire day before you’ve even started.

And don’t forget to buy yourself a pretty nightdress or nightshirt for the birth. I bought a white cotton one from Princess Tam Tam at Fenwick. There’s something strangely comforting in knowing you’ve made an effort to look nice even when you’re swearing at the midwife.

Mother’s wardrobe

Having spent the best part of my teenage years borrowing (stealing) clothes out of my Mother’s wardrobe, it was really quite exciting when today she invited me to take a look at some things I might like. Even at the tender age of 36, other people’s clothes, always seem so much nicer than my own. Being given something that you haven’t had to shop for or, lets be honest, pay for is such a lovely treat and quite frankly, I now have some pretty good stuff in my wardrobe thanks to today.  

She’s quite a neat dresser, my Mum, lots of Agnes B and Comptoir Des Cotonniers mixed with a bit of Cos and Zara – really can’t sniff at any of that – and there have been many many times I’ve caught myself feeling rather envious of certain ensembles. She’s always been very good at separates and wears a tailored cotton shirt perfectly and capri pants better than anyone else I know. She bought the most fabulous white tuxedo jacket from Zara recently which I had to really force myself to congratulate whilst being quietly furious not to have seen it first.

So I write this dressed head to toe in my mum’s clothes; Agnes B sleeveless pale blue cotton shirt and Zara skinny white capris, smelling of Coco Chanel, drinking a cup of fresh coffee and flicking idly through the pages of Cote Sud. Today, I am my Mother. How lovely.

Hunk’s Trunks Sunk by Zebedee Helm

The problem of bikinis slipping off when enjoying a dive into water is not one that is exclusive to women. As a man it happens too, although it is often not a bikini but the male swimming costume (trunks) which come down and expose the white male rump and ding dong. Don’t think you can trick gravity by pulling the drawstring really tight before diving either, it just makes them harder to pull up again. For those of you who are interested in damage limitation and don’t want to frighten the children, the trick is to catch your trunks before they come entirely right off and then try to re-position them when you are still under the water. Of course this isn’t always possible and if you find yourself starting to drown then abandon the manoeuvre, it is not worth dying for. The thing of it is however, that when your trunks do shoot off you are reminded how much nicer it feels to swim without them in the first place.
I’ve just remembered that this is predominantly a fashion blog and so herewith is a description of the trunks that presently encumber my socks, pants and trunks drawer. Don’t worry this won’t take long I only have three pairs, or a pair of pairs and one more pair, whichever is clearer. Pair one (1) are green and baggy and floppy and I bought them in India for 1 Rupee (for those of you unfamiliar with the currency this is very cheap) Unfortunately they smell very strongly of stale sulphur. This is because I went into a hot sulphur spring in Italy and didn’t wash them out afterwards. People grimace if I swoosh past them wearing these ones, so they are for emergencies only now. Pair two are from a little known fashion boutique called Gap which is in Cheltenham. They are red shorts with white piping. Unfortunately the white piping is now incredibly filthy and grey. I don’t know how they got like this as they are only worn in water, which is what you clean things in, and yet they are dirty and it won’t scrub out, which is mysterious as well as annoying. These are my main pair. Pair three are Burberry ones which I bought ironically. They are very tight and not flattering at all, particularly when exiting the water, or lounging about. Also no one apart from me thinks they are funny, so they rarely get worn. To conclude this essay on the male trunks costume, I would recommend wherever possible to dispense with them entirely and if you are nice and thin, go for a skinny dip, and if you are large, a fatty dip.

Editor’s note : If you would like to know more about the wonderful world of Zebedee Helm then you must visit his website HERE. You can also purchase his fabulous cartoons, drawings and paintings and read his brilliant blog.

Bikini, Tankini or All-In-One-Kini

My children have worn nothing but Indian cotton kaftans since we arrived in France. My husband has worn a colourful variety of Happy Socks with sandals daily and I’ve been head to toe in Breton stripes and Tallulah and Hope. Life is good.

So that’s the coverups sorted out. My husband’s Happy Socks don’t really count I know but  at least they keep him smiling and the locals entertained.

I’m still unsure about my bikini situation though. I’ve always been a little nervous of the bikini. You see, I like swimming, I like going up and down the pool, diving in, a bit of front crawl, maybe even some forward rolls if I’m feeling sprightly. Sadly bikini’s do not tend to weather well with all this activity. It results in rather too much unplanned exposure, if you know what I mean. What you really need is a proper swimsuit and I do happen to have one with me, my Adidas blue stripe with razor back, but it’s not really the thing to be worn by the pool. It doesn’t work well for either sunbathing activities or general poolside chic. What’s a girl to do.

I’ve tried all styles of bikini. The halter versions tend to expose from bottom up, especially during that first dive of the day and the bandeaus, well they just end up round your tummy when faced with even the slightest bit of action. There is the Tankini of course and I do like a Tankini, it’s a clever bit of bikini style design and perfect for the post childbirth tummy but I still don’t feel nearly as secure as in my faithful one piece.

So here’s what I’ve had to do. The Adidas comes out very early in the morning for my serious swim. When I can leap and splash to my hearts content and emerge breathless but decent. The bikini (which this year is a blue and white polka dot halter from Topshop) makes its appearance for the gentle breaststroke with head above the ripples, complete with the all important squeals as I lower myself in to the icy cold water and finished off with a graceful, modest exit via the steps.

All rather boring but essential bikini behaviour.

Tallulah and Hope – Summer Sale

My favourite kaftan brand in the whole world is having a serious Summer Sale.

The sale starts on Saturday 2nd July so put it in your diary and get online before it all disappears in a fabulous flash of silk!

Click HERE to go straight to the T&H website

Fashion Confusion – the maxi dress

I’m on my way back from London. Sitting in a cool, empty train carriage after a hot, chaotic few hours in the big smoke. I went for work, to meet with magazine editors who were young enough to be my children. Well almost. It felt very much like that. They were fresh faced and well rested and “sooo stressed” and I was the slightly past it, ex magazine person who actually said the words “I worked here almost 12 years ago”. Not something I needed reminding of.

 
Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to write about. It was the in between meetings bit, the part where I was pushing my way down Oxford street trying to talk myself in to the merits of taking the tube and trying desperately not to raise my arm and hail a taxi – I lost, my arm won. It was then that I had a good look around me and took in what everyone was wearing. And I don’t know whether I’m any kind of authority to say this – I’m not – but everyone was such a mess. The only person I saw who looked remotely neat and well dressed and enviable was my friend Jenny in her short denim shorts and red gingham shirt with legs stretching as far as the eye could see. Jen, you rock.

 
The main problem was this…..there were way too many badly fitting maxi dresses. I fell out of love with the maxi dress a long time ago when I worked for a brand, who’s name I won’t mention, who were, if you like, one of the first high street brands to bring the maxi dress to the masses and to this day I’m not sure that was a good thing. I often look at long, slender ladies with envy as they float around in their floral maxis and although something inside me is telling me I should love it, I don’t. They look like little girls or ladies who are trying to be little girls and I just don’t think it’s a good look if you’re aged over 12. An evening maxi is a different matter all together. Long for the right occasion is fabulous, long for the day time when you can’t see your feet or it’s showing a little too much cleavage and slightly burnt shoulders, is not fabulous. It’s frightening and dare I say it, rather lazy – albeit fashionably lazy.

Perhaps it’s also important to add that my bugbear with the maxi dress is predominantly when they’re worn in the city. Where hemlines will only trail on the floor and get grubby or trip you up when running for buses or get tangled in escalators when racing for the sale bargains. If worn at all it should be on holiday. Oh and if you’re pregnant. That makes perfect sense.

The other thing which dampened the day a little happened during my pilgrimage to COS, which I love. It was absolutely packed. Cos is never packed. Cos is calm and quiet and neat and tidy and still the best kept high street secret. Oh please tell me it is. How did all these people find out about it. I don’t think they even knew what shop they were in, it was more like a frenzied grab what you can closing down sale than the calm, civilised Cos I so miss. Deeply upsetting.

So now, after a confusing day in London I’m racing home to the safety of the countryside where maxi dresses are much less frequent and no one, but no one has ever even heard of Cos.

Denim dilemma

I need a new pair of jeans. I never actually considered jeans as a wardrobe staple until about 10 years ago when I bought my first pair of PPQ jeans. They changed my life and I have never worn anything else since. Here’s a black pair – aren’t they just lovely.

So now that PPQ are taking a, hopefully short lived, break from jeans, I’m thinking about trying something else. But I have absolutely no idea where on earth to even start! I tried a pair of Superfine grey skinnies on once, a few years ago when they were the jean to own. I remember it so very very clearly. The changing room in Liberty, the excitement of having finally plucked up the courage to join the grey skinny jean gang and then I put them on. I can’t tell you how dreadful they looked. They did nothing for me from any angle. I felt like someone had painted my legs, badly, in grey using a spatula and the shape made my rather short legs look like stunted, over-ripe, bananas. The disappointment was enormous. In fact so much so, I’ve never spoken about it until now. I found the whole thing deeply embarassing – luckily I was on my own and didn’t leave the changing room – but the flipside was on the very same day in the very same department I bought the most fabulous pale blue cotton APC sun dress which I love and adore. So take that, Superfine skinny grey jeans which I thought I wanted.

Since then I’ve never strayed from my PPQs but after 2 children and thousands of outings, my 7 pairs are starting to look a little frayed around the edges and until I can buy a new pair, it’s time to strike out on my own.

So what should I be looking for? I’ve trawled the pages of Net-A-Porter and it just gets more confusing every time. I don’t want bright coloured ones, I know that, I’m a jean purist so I’ll stick with dark blue, possibly black. I don’t want any stupid creases to make it look like I’ve been sitting down in them for weeks – why do they do that? – and I don’t want really low ones which show my, not quite so pert any more, bottom. I also don’t want ones which strangle my ankles, I’ve never been good in those. I need a very slight flare and a little bit of stretch but not of the Jeggings variety – another piece of leg wear which really upsets me.

So any help gratefully accepted please.

Oh and I’m also not spending anywhere near £200 on a pair of jeans. That’s just plain silly.

Ps. My rant about Superfine skinny grey jeans only related to me and my silly legs. Everyone else I’ve ever seen wearing them looks amazing. Really. I just thought I’d better clear that up.

Roll up roll up….

Or don’t, as the case may be. I’m talking about men and the trend for rolling up their already skinny, tapered jean.

I know this has been around for a while, seen first on the Milan and Paris catwalks and slowly filtering down ever since. So it wasn’t a huge surprise that on a recent visit to Westfield shopping centre in London (the Mac store – the only reason to ever ever go there) I noticed they were absolutely everywhere but on the most unlikely of candidates. If I’m really truly honest, I sort of liked it. I liked the confidence with which it was worn and the tight neatness of the roll, more than the fashion itself perhaps. The hilarity came from the shock and total incomprehension shown by my husband who was the first to spot the many male ankles surrounding him. “Why would you do that?” he kept saying as he pushed his way through in his twisted, loose, rolled down, Levis. Which I would like to go on record as saying , I like much much more than the male skinny jean. Especially when it’s on my husband.

What did confuse me about all the ankle exposure wasn’t so much the style of jean (very tapered) worn with the espadrille pump (an understandable shoe choice) but it was the person wearing said ensemble. They weren’t fashion types, they were groups of twenty and thirty something boys (men) who just didn’t strike me as tapered jean wearers. They were more loose and lager than skinny and sushi. And then, to my husband’s complete horror, the particular group we were following and observing, took a sharp right turn and went in to Topman. “What are they doing???” he exclaimed, a little too loudly. Maybe we should just put it down to being a generation divide. I think it’s safe to say he will never roll up his jeans, thank goodness, I on the other hand just popped to the village shop in a pair of rolled up PPQ skinnies and my black and white brogues and it felt pretty darn good.

The men in Westfield did not look anything like this.  Just thought that was worth mentioning.

Is it better to smell like your mother or your mother in law?

My husband isn’t really one for lady fragrances, he refers to perfume as aftershave, but then again he doesn’t know the difference between a skirt and a dress, so you can see the problem.

I’ve often asked him if he likes my perfume, likes the smell, thinks of me when he smells it, that kind of thing  and he’s always said, “yes yes, it’s lovely”. I wear YSL Rive Gauche….or at least I did until the other day when I asked the same question and he replied, “yes I really like it, reminds me of my Mum”. Is that a good thing? I don’t know. Should it worry me? Do I want to remind my husband of his Mum?

So, I was coming to the end of my bottle of regular Rive Gauche and decided that rather than buying more, I’d have a change. So, I looked through the myriad bottles of half worn perfume which line my bathroom shelf, and decided to go for Coco by Chanel, which I’ve always loved….and which reminds me of my Mum. You can see where this is going. One evening, wearing said perfume, we were lying on the sofa watching CSI, in that precious hour between the kids and our own bed time, and suddenly he said ;

“I really like your new aftershave”

“It’s the one my Mum always wears” I replied, testingly.

“That’s ok” he said, nuzzling a little closer.

But is it ok? Who should I smell like, my mum or my mother in law? Or should I just start completely from scratch and find a whole new smell.

Oh the dilemmas I find myself in. Life is really never simple.