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? 

Hot Cheap Compromises

It’s (finally) smokin’ hot here in the late-blooming north. With the heat comes humidity. It’s no where near the turn-you-into-human-jerky humidity experienced by our lovely readers in the American south, but it’s still moist hot air. In this kind of heat (which I secretly love), a la carte dressing is the only option; non-metal accessories are sticky against sweat and sunscreen, and metals heat up to excruciating temperatures in the sun. My goal, then, is to be as close to naked as possible while remaining paparazzi ready outside my apartment.

As a result, business casual has gone out the window for the past two days—as have my anxieties about being too old to wear spaghetti straps in real life:

Brown cotton jersey dress: Theory

Non-neutral wedges: Geox (remixed)

Yellow beachy-lady bag: thrifted

This bag breaks my once-firm “No Women Besides Me In/On My Clothes” rule. I’ve never seen the point of wearing a face or body other than my own next to my face or body. I still don’t. But the bag is a fun and unusual print, it’s got two wooden peaches on its canvas straps, and it cost next to nothing; so I folded.

Another compromise I made this week involved this “dress”:


jersey bag/dress: Spense (via Winners)

White tank dress: Le Chateau

Studded gladiator sandals: Steve Madden (remixed)

Silver bangle: The Bay (remixed)

I acknowledge this is less a dress and more a bag with straps. But that’s pretty much the point – well, that and the colour, which I pretend makes me look tan. Either way, the “dress” hangs, air blows it around when I walk, and I decrease my chances of melting. I compromise because it’s bloody hot out – but I wear the light tank dress, too, because viscose jersey is WAY too thin to go it alone this far from the beach. (Or at least it’s too thin for my buttock-related comfort.)

What sartorial compromises, if any, do you make in the heat of summer? What have you purchased (and worn) in violation of your style rules?