• Los Angeles fashion, style, shopping and culture
GOOD OLD DAYS: See how cute maternity fashion used to be? The cover of an old Butterick maternity pattern.

Bumpin' Out

Maternity clothes have steadily gotten more "fashionable." And not for the better.
By Martha Borovy
Published on June 08, 2010

At eight months pregnant, I'm not in the market for clothes that make me look "sexy." Sexy is what got me here. And the last thing I'm trying to do in my condition is pick up a guy. My belly is so rotund, I can't see my legs in the shower. I have to shave my shins by touch alone.

Yet every t-shirt and dress swinging from the racks of maternity stores features a plunging neckline to show off that much-heralded "pregnancy cleavage." As though showing more boob will distract from the watermelon I've got tucked underneath my shirt.

After nearly seven months of attempting to outfit my ever-changing form without betraying my personal style (which tends toward the vintage and black), too-sexy clothes are one of my major gripes concerning the current state of maternity fashion. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Maternity wear companies have been keen, in recent years, to adapt trend-right contemporary apparel into pregnancy looks, eschewing the flowing muu muus and big-bowed tent dresses of our mothers' generation for skinny jeans, sequined tank tops and strapless cocktail frocks.

Some say "hooray" to these updates, thankful that they don't have to adjust their pre-pregnancy style too drastically. But I'm of the mind that wearing the exact style of clothes when you're 40 pounds heavier only accentuates the fact that you're, well, 40 pounds heavier. I'd prefer to affect a wholly different style — one that doesn't make me look like I got ensnared in a sausage casing. But the high-necked trapeze dresses are simply no longer available.

Here's what took its place:

 

Scuba-suit dresses

"Dip in the pool, anyone?"

How often do you don a shiny, 90-percent-spandex dress to go to work, hit a cocktail party or attend a concert at MOCA? Not so much, I'm guesssing. Yet most of the dresses in maternity boutiques are made of stretchy, glossy swimwear material — often emblazoned with some huge floral print. And nothing could be less flattering than leotard-esque fabric on a chubby back or rump. We preggos may have trouble keeping our balance, but we're not about to dive overboard. Bring on the tailored cotton.

 

Designer jeans that lie

Yeah, she won't be fitting into these next month.

While mass maternity companies (think Target and Motherhood Maternity) like to put you in spandex, designer jeans companies — the big-named denim dealers who got into the maternity game a few years back  — like to make you feel horrible about yourself by insinuating, through sizing alone, that you will still fit into the same size of maternity jeans that you did in your regular jeans. But really, the "hidden" elastic tabs that make a maternity jean's waistband forgiving only actually give a handful of inches. So unless you're Giselle Bundchen (who wore a bathing suit in Vogue three months after giving birth), you'll only fit into your pre-preg size for the first few months. Which means you just flushed $175 dollars down the drain.

 

Crazy grandma prints

Nothing says style like a dress that resembles a pinata.

No one's looked good in huge paisley prints since Purple Rain, so why would a woman swelling up like a balloon choose to festoon her form with huge, bold graphics? Yet big, bold prints are exactly what's covering half the maternity wear on the market. Past the sixth month, we're already feeling rather clownish — just give us solid blacks, greys and browns, people.

 

Kimono-wrapped anything

Lift and separate.

Back to my sausage-casing point: Maternity wear companies love to manufacture kimono-wrapped dresses and tops. It's a silhouette that's supposedly flattering. But unless you're super-small chested, it seperates your bust in an odd way — making the valley in between your bosoms look far too expansive and encasing each girl in her own little too-noticeable hammock.

 

Dumpy skirts

''If only I had a skirt to match my drapery..."

Admittedly, it's hard to outfit a bottom section that's massive on one end (the lower belly) and skinny on the other (the knees). But the dumpy, frumpy skirts on the market don't do a preggo form any favors. How about making a pencil skirt that actually conformed to the body instead of hovering around it? God forbid we breeders actually look pulled-together.

 

editors@stylesectionla.com