Читать книгу The Three of U.S.: A New Life in New York - Peter Godwin - Страница 41

I am only nine weeks pregnant and already my wardrobe doesn’t fit. This seems especially alarming because as I was flicking through Sheila Kitzinger’s Complete Book of Pregnancy this morning I noticed the entry for sixteen weeks: ‘Your waistline will be starting to disappear.’

It has already disappeared, completely. I begin a listless hunt through my wardrobe only to find myself, incredibly, fantasizing about wearing a comfortable turquoise smock.

Kelly has given me a book called Pregnancy Chic. Ostensibly a fashion guide, it is actually a vehicle to push leggings and spinnaker-shaped T-shirts manufactured by the authors. I can’t work out what’s worse, the jaunty illustrations of smiling women in caftans or the advice itself, which seems to concentrate largely on the many different things you can do with a scarf.

‘Medium square: looks great tied loosely around your neck or shoulders over a tunic or a sweater! Pocket square: tied neckerchief-style with a tunic or button-down shirt! Oblong: looks best with a solid tunic, sweater or cardigan!’

I don’t want to wear a neckerchief-style scarf, I want to be able to fit back into my Joseph bootleg pants, of which I have four pairs, and the size 4 jeans I bought in the Boston Banana Republic after losing half a stone covering the Louise Woodward trial.

I e-mail Jane in London, whom I cannot remember looking even vaguely pregnant during her ninth months carrying William. She sends back an encouraging missive, which she entitles, ‘Sick Male Notions of Female Attractiveness’. ‘Don’t worry about buying maternity wear, squeeze into your old stuff and wear long jackets. Clothes are the least of your worries. If you haven’t done so already, make sure you book a maternity nurse asap. All the best ones get booked fast and you won’t get through the nights without one.’