There are two pregnant women in my office – thankfully I am not one of them. One is NJ the titian haired lawyer who took the photos for Days 30 and 31 of the Shoe Challenge. She is excellent company and hilarious about many things including (but not limited to) dressing to accomodate projectile child vomit and how to make a sick child look well enough to fool a day care centre manager.
This morning she turned up in my room wearing a top that showed that her bust had increased at least three sizes overnight.
“We” she said to me “are going shopping. I need a new bra for this week and will probably need a size larger for next week”.
So at lunchtime we surgically removed the Boss from her office and headed off to Paddys Market in Sydney – round the back and up the stairs is a virtual treasure trove of discount lingerie outlets. It is at times like this that I appreciate being in a mostly female office – in how many other law firms would buying underwear constitute a team building experience?
As I watched the Boss and NJ flick through racks of Pleasure State bras (if you are a 36FF get down there tomorrow, there are heaps of things in your size) I had a pregnancy deja vu moment. I did not enjoy being pregnant – I hated being looked at examined, commented on and manhandled by complete strangers. I felt like a sweaty, farting, walking Easter Egg most of the time. The hardest thing for me was the rapid increase in size and decrease in balance. It did not matter how many people told me that I was a glowing, radiant, divinely beautiful earth goddess. At the time, all I could think about was where my second backside had appeared from and how I was going find a pair of pants big enough to accomodate it.
The trick to being a happy pregnant person, as anyone who has been pregnant knows (apart from sleeping and eating well and exercisng appropriately) is dressing to make yourself feel like less of a heffalump and more like a fecund, sexy fertility symbol. While comfort in maternity underwear is therefore important pregnant women still want to look good.
Which brings me to ankle boots. Ankle boots are always a bit problematic for me. The conventional wisdom is that you should only wear ankle boots with jeans or trousers and not with skirts. This is a bit a shame as high heeled ankle boots are much, much more comfortable to wear than say high heeled strappy sandals.
Nedahl Stelio, one of my favourite fashion bloggers, is dead keen on appropriately matching ankle boots to skirts and dresses. Her advice is:
Choose your ankle boots wisely. They either need to be f**k off high …or have a dip on the outside of the boot which gives the illusion of a longer leg. Black suede does not help, it is heavy and pulls the eye down.
So today I wore a pair of ankle boots with a skirt. These have a 4 inch heel but were perfectly comfortable for walking the 2 kilometres round trip from Surry Hills to Haymarket on a sticky Sydney summer day. According to my husband these boots even looked quite interesting with the lacey tights and nothing else.
Do high heeled ankle boots bridge the gap between comfort and allure? Let me know what you think.