What Do You Wear When You Don’t Look Like You Anymore?

Do you remember where you were when Kylie Jenner did her big post-baby body reveal on Instagram? The mirror selfie from the gym which showed a totally flat stomach and a six pack, with the phrase ‘No Days Off!’ written over it? I was in a queue in the M&S lingerie department with my four-month-old son George (who is almost the same age as Kylie’s little boy), who was crying in his buggy while I waited to pay for two of the most enormous pairs of pants I have ever bought in my life. I wanted to wail right along with him.

Of course, new mum life is very different when you’re a Kardashian, and I’m under no illusion there are any parallels between us: I’m 14 years older and one billion dollars poorer for a start. The timing for me was bad, though. Triggering, even. I had reached rock bottom that week in terms of how I felt about myself and my own post-baby body.

Even the words ‘post-baby body’ are loaded. After years spent working in magazines, I know how they have become synonymous with other phrases, like ‘bouncing back’ and ‘snapping back’. Women are expected, or expect themselves, to be back in their old pre-baby jeans within weeks. This couldn’t be further from what I’m dealing with - and I know I’m not alone.

This isn’t just about the baby weight gain for me though, nor are sudden weight changes exclusive to having a baby. My new body comes off the back of an underactive thyroid diagnosis in 2019 (two stone gained), followed by a pandemic and three lockdowns (another stone gained) and *then* my first baby (another stone). I have gone from a size 12/14 to a 16/18 and I barely recognise what I see in the mirror now.

I knew my body would change when I had a baby but I wasn’t really prepared for how different I would feel (both on the outside and in). Some I did expect, for example my breasts, which had always been small, are now huge and pendulous and my stomach can be tucked into things. But my arms are also much thicker, my bum - which has always been big – is even bigger, and even my face doesn’t feel like mine, it’s much rounder. The irony that I spent most of my twenties and thirties worrying I was fat isn’t lost on me now I’m the biggest I’ve ever been.

It’s hardly surprising that getting dressed is even more loaded than usual. Like most new mums, the first couple of months postpartum were spent in leggings and joggers so the new shape of my body didn’t occur to me too much, and in any case I was too sleep deprived to care. Then, when it came to try and get some normality back, I realised only a few things in my wardrobe a) still fitted and b) were suitable for breastfeeding.

I knew I had to try and find joy in dressing again. I’ve always loved clothes. I’m the assistant editor of Grazia and I devour all the shopping pages and have always loved playing with my wardrobe. I didn’t want to hide away in stretchy workout gear (which I resolutely was not working out in) anymore.

What followed is what I can only describe as a frenzy of utterly miserable online shopping. I spent over £1,000 for shirts, trousers, shorts, dresses and shirts only for it ALL to go back. I tried it all on and hated it whether if fitted or not. It was then I realised it wasn’t even the clothes I didn’t like, it was the new me.

We are living in an era where body positivity rules social media. Got some belly rolls? Show them off and celebrate them. Stretch marks? No problem! But where do you start when it comes to dressing a body you don’t much like? Is it even OK to admit you don’t like a body which birthed your beloved baby? This year has taught me if you’re not quite ready to celebrate a body which has changed a lot that’s fine too. It’s not superficial to feel overwhelmed when you have changed so drastically inside and out.

As the weeks have gone on, though, I have tried to be less judgemental of what I dress it in, partly because I’m getting used to the new me and partly because I’m bloody busy looking after a baby. I have started to, if not accept my new shape, then be kinder to myself when I get dressed. I’m being practical. I’ve put most of my old denim and things that don’t fit into storage under the bed and have a smaller rotation of clothes, which makes getting dressed easier. A few capsule outfits make decisions less fraught and now I have them I’m shopping less. I know nothing I wear is going to make me look thinner, and so I’m wearing what I like rather than trying desperately to find things which will have a magical slimming effect. If someone thinks I look fat in it, that’s their problem, not mine. I’m four months postpartum and I’m finally unapologetic.  I went on my first post baby holiday last week to Cornwall and it set me back a bit as I struggled with getting dressed for dinner, or to wander to the pool. New clothes can help, but they don’t fix low self-esteem. So, if you feel low and self-conscious about your body like I do, I hope my capsule wardrobe tips help…