Goodbye , farewell, adios dear maternity clothes.
We had a lovely time together throughout my three pregnancies, mainly spent eating and reading online articles about the importance of staying active whilst dossing on the sofa, but a lovely time none the less.
Despite my attempts and financial sacrifices to look fashionable during pregnancy, like the Pinterest boards promised me I could, I always ended up looking, erm, heavily pregnant. Funny enough no brand of maternity clothes ever made me look like the size 6 non pregnant models with their tiny fake bumps.
I remember lovingly boxing you up after my second pregnancy and putting a hilarious note inside that started along the lines of ‘oh no you didn’t’! Turns out it wasn’t hilarious. A sickly green and exhausted version of myself eye rolled so hard I saw the back of my own skull, ‘this is proof that you were clearly planning for this to happen you giddy idiot’!
Much like myself you stretched well beyond what was intended (one pair of Gap jeans actually ripped open exposing my ever expanding arse) and gathered multiple stains as I sat balancing my plate on my bump to eat ‘hangry’ style in front of the TV.
You served me well but it’s now time to say goodbye for good.
So there you are, the ones that survived the ripping and staining, bagged up in a black sack, like the body from Shallow Grave, purchased on Ebay and awaiting collection. Before you go, I sigh, reflecting that I will never again search the maternity sections or wear empire line, drop waist, trapeze style shapeless sacks that cost the same, sometimes more than actually nice clothes. I pick up my phone and eagerly start putting shit into baskets.