Things That Should be Large

Greetings, StyleNation, from the midst of my research leave, almost end-of-term, and month 7.75 of my pregnancy. I should be large. And I am.

Also, something creepy but simultaneously kind of hilarious happened last week. I have little else to report, so I’m posting mostly to share about that.

First, the outfit I was wearing when it happened.

#1. Worn to an early evening professional event with cocktails

As my footwear choices are currently limited to those that can adjust to fit my stupid swollen preggo feet, I wore this.


Pointe knit draped blazer: Grace Elements (new to blog, via Belk); Silver bib necklace: Stella and Dot (gifted by DSW, remixed; Black maternity tunic/t-shirt: Bump Maternity (via Motherhood Maternity – worst store name ever – new to blog); Brooch: made by an artist whose name I forget, from a series called Blue in the Face; Black pointe and pleather maternity leggings: Queen Mum (new to blog, via the new maternity boutique down the street); Boots: Khrio (new to blog, via adorably hip shoe boutique by my favourite coffee place downtown)


I strode into the event and began mingling with students and colleagues. It was lovely because I mostly work from home right now and haven’t seen anyone all term.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a colleague from another institution doing a huge lean out of her conversation group, clearly eyeballing my preggo form. She had a big weird grin on her face was trying to catch my eye. (This particular colleague has been awkwardly and arrogantly hot and cold with me in ways I’ve found both embarrassing and annoying in the recent past. For example, despite our knowing each other for years and having attended (and hung out at) many of the same conferences, at a social event a number of months ago, she refused to acknowledge my efforts to catch her eye. Later, when I made a point of seeking her out to chat briefly, she acted like I was a ridiculous hanger-on with a major crush on her who was, her demeanour implied, embarrassing both of us in front of her new girlfriend. It was the dumbest.)

At last week’s event, she soon made her way over to me, grinning all the while, and we had the following creepy and kind of awesome exchange:

COLLEAGUE: Hey A-Dubs, you’re looking. . . . . you’re looking (pausing and grinning strangely). …

MOI: Uh, is “rotund” the word you’re looking for?

COLLEAGUE: Well, no. Uh (more pausing, grinning, and looking me up and down), it’s hard not to objectify pregnant women. I mean, don’t you find that?

MOI: (at a loss for words) Ummmm, what?

COLLEAGUE: No, I mean, it’s hard FOR ME not to objectify pregnant women. (more awkward and now openly lecherous grinning)

                              The M.C. begins her opening comments; everyone but us is now sitting down.

MOI: Hmmm. Well, more on this later. See you afterward. (I escape to my seat.)

                                         She left early, so we were both spared any further interactions like the above.

WTF? I suppose I spend so much time in feminist spaces that I’d forgotten what it’s like to be leered at in a professional setting. That said, I kind of love that she embarrassed herself in this manner.  I believe now, according to the grade-five-rules-of-mean-girl-relationships, I have the upper hand. And yet, blech. Also, this took place in a feminist space!

In other news, I wore a variation of the all-black-with-fat-feet-adjustable-boots outfit. I will show it to you via my exceptional photography.

#2. Worn to attend two research talks on campus


All same as above, but switched out jacket for Black silk/cotton blend non-maternity slim sweater, and switched out bib necklace and pin for gifted and oft-remixed silver
Tiffany necklace


Mostly, I am over being pregnant and cannot wait to carry this baby on the outside of my body. However, I have another two articles to complete and submit to journals, and at least two weeks worth of research-related administrata to take care of before this baby comes into the world. So probably I should just embrace the largeness and all associated crappy symptoms (carpal tunnel in both wrists, for example) for just a wee bit longer.

Finally, let’s finish today’s Sei Shōnagon-inspired list, shall we? I’ll do 5, and you add your ideas in the comments section:

Things that Should be Large

5. One’s publication record prior to the commencement of maternity leave

4. More of my boots

3. One’s capacity for compassion (currently, I excel instead at smugness)

2. One’s wine collection and accompanying glasses

1. One’s budget for the purchasing of baby supplies (srsly: holy maude)

What else should be large, StyleNation? 

22 thoughts on “Things That Should be Large

  1. I remember when I was about 5 months pregnant with my first baby (but looked 11 months) and I introduced a poet at a university event. Said poet took some 10 minutes to publicly rhapsodize over my “luscious” pregnant form in front of colleagues and students before he began reading.

    Things that should be large:
    1. Nursing bras
    2. Sense of humour
    3. Closets (my Victorian-era house has tall ceilings and small rooms)
    4. Love for your growing family
    5. Your supply of your favourite decadent treat so you don’t have to run out to the grocery store

  2. Way to look chic and sexy whilst in the third trimester. Also, you are not really so large, but probably just large compared to your non-prego self. Ew to the leering colleague. You totes have to Mean Girl upper hand now.
    I have a pic of myself the week Leon was born. I basically looked like globe with chunky legs and some hair. I actually kinda miss it (although it is even better when him on the outside). One of my students from last spring said, “It’s weird that’s he’s not on the inside anymore.”
    Things that should be large(r)
    1. Apartment
    2. One’s tolerance for sleep deprivation (not a “Just you wait.” L is fast asleep. This is more of my anxiety keeping me up way past the progeny)
    3. View of one’s career
    4. Time budgeted for exercise
    5. Should bags

      • Shoulder bags. WTF is a should bag? Sounds like a place to put guilt.

        Haha, don’t let my rosy backwards view trick you too much. I was also carpal tunnely, had achey legs and horribly sore feet (those compression tights with a big belly are your friend), couldn’t run after week 19 or so because of my pelvic girdle pain, had blinding headaches and terrible heartburn (for the first time in my life), went to L&D for early contractions, had a very unattractive reaction to penicillin, etc. I gained 40 lbs and my students (I believe in a well meaning way) made fun of my increasingly rotund shape. I also had a lot of anxiety that something would go terribly wrong. But I also enjoyed it, too, and I have chosen to only remember the good stuff (I had to think for a minute about what I didn’t like).
        I hope that you too forgot the crap and remember only how excited and happy you are to grow your little buddy.

          • Should Bag — I have enough “I should” stuff to fill a large bag, would that count?
            Yeah, pregnancy sucks (from my end: insomnia, nausea, joint pain, extreme fatigue, madcap food aversions, heartburn, incurable itching, swollen feet, skin tags, acne). Luckily, parental memory is highly revisionary.

  3. Badass maternity style, Mama-Dubs! Smoking hot and very cool.

    WTF indeed on professional-situation leering. She was entirely inappropriate and totally embarrassed herself. You definitely have the upper hand. Plus, now that you know she fetishes pregnant bodies to a point that circumvents her professionalism, you can always maintain the upper hand by bringing along some pregnant women to all future encounters. Sort of like Gwen Stefani with her Harajuku girls.

    I’m going to be Dr. McButt-in and say that you, regarding the baby supplies, you may not actually need all the stuff you’re “supposed” to get. I’m happy to commiserate on costs, discuss baby gear options and/or provide my own Less Junk In My House baby supply list at your request, but I promise not to dispense any further unsolicited advice.

    5. My travel budget (swiped from Janey because it’s oh so sadly true).
    4. My summer shopping budget.
    3. The amount of last night’s leftovers, because I just ate all of it and am still hungry.
    2. My alcohol tolerance.
    1. The time period between my progeny’s bedtime and my own.

  4. Also, yeah. Leering is unpleasant and weird and entirely unnecessary. Good thing I enjoy the feeling my face makes when I narrow my eyes in response.

  5. 5. My travel budget
    4. Your guest room
    3. Your eventual baby’s tolerance for awkwardly provided but sincerely meant cuddles (I’m not maternal, but I’ll fake it)
    2. One’s vocabulary
    1. Jeggings (seriously, size M will fit, but they ride up)

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