The Hanging Garments Of Baby-lon
By J.D. Nordell and Darby Saxbe
Why is no one talking about the fact that 99 percent of women's clothing right now makes us look pregnant? We refer here to the billowing, empire-waist dresses and tops that invaded our nation's clothing racks this summer and sent ladies of all ages and sizes into the streets looking like they'd just felt the first kick. We thought the fad would come and go like a home test false positive, but no, it persists this fall. Alas, maternity wear is now everyday fashion.
The pregnant-but-not-really look first appeared a few years ago in the form of Carrie Bradshaw's smocked terry tube dress, but it took until summer 2007 to reach total saturation. By mid-July, women from Manhattan to Milwaukee — no matter their age — looked like mothers-to-be. This fall, the look has morphed into an array of woolen smocks and jersey tent dresses. A stroll through the racks at Target or the boutiques of Soho reveals an ever-expanding pantheon of fashions best described as "pregnapparel."
There's "The Baby Doll," a long tunic that hugs the breasts and then floats loosely over the belly, swirling around an illusory baby bump. There's "The Lactator," a low-cut, V-neck style that ties directly below the bosom and makes the wearer look ready to vend breast milk on eBay. There's "The Hausfrau," a style that grips the body above the breasts and then balloons out so dramatically that an average-sized woman appears to be shoplifting an air conditioner. "The Smock" grips the body nowhere, creating a totally unrestricted environment in which the imaginary foetus may grow. And to our horror, there is now "The Mushroom Cloud," which incorporates all the voluminousness of the above, but then cinches right below the belly, as if to put a gilded frame around one's expanding uterus.
Have we mentioned just how unflattering these styles are?
According to Anja Olsen, a fashion designer for the Moret Group in New York, this trend is a radical departure from fashion's last ubiquitous look: the low-rise jean and bared midriff. "The '90s were all about skimpy, tight clothing, showing off your body. The empire-waist silhouette is part of a trend toward youthfulness... being carefree," says Olsen.
While the non-pregnant among us wear floaty gazebos, the pregnant wear clothing that's more body-conscious than ever: expectant celebrities and civilians alike parade their bulging forms in stretchy workout pants and body-hugging tank tops. Not pregnant? Fake it. Actually pregnant? Flaunt it!
So is this a blip on the fashion sonogram, or is something in the ether making us want to see gestation at every turn? "Pregnancy is hip right now," Olsen confirms, "pregnancy is really cool. Photographers are even putting pregnant models in fashion spreads." Notes From the Underbelly, an ABC sitcom focusing on a young couple's first-time pregnancy, was recently renewed for its second season. Its documentary equivalent, A Baby Story on TLC, has topped the 100-episode mark, and babyrazzi.com is just one of a growing blogroll devoted exclusively to tracking celeb-maternity. Not to belabor the point (ha!), but pregnancy is everywhere. After all, this summer's highest grossing movie, Knocked Up, charted a pregnancy month-by-month, complete with fuzzy shots of a developing embryo.
Other recent films have cast pregnancy in more shadows than light. Children of Men envisioned a dystopic future in which women can no longer have children — except for a single refugee who must be closely guarded by the movie's hero. The indie comedy Waitress featured a heroine who dreams of escape after being impregnated by her abusive husband. Although the movies end with babes snugly in arms, they share a vision of pregnancy as threatened by a hostile, ominous future.
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Enter pregnapparel. In a time of great uncertainty, visions of impending motherhood act as a balm for all our fears. We need something to counteract our despair about ongoing war(s), domestic crises and threats of attack by an amorphous enemy: under these capacious tunics and smocks, hope is just a few months away.
The last time we so feared a formless enemy was at the dawn of the Cold War. Then, as now, women's clothing exaggerated their fertility. But in the '50s, bullet bras, tight sweaters, and nipped-in waists suggested the wearer could, in the future, bear hordes of offspring. In contrast, pregnapparel makes pregnancy not a distant possibility but a fait accompli. And perhaps that's just what we need: not the promise of renewal, but its presence, right now — if only in the form of "The Hausfrau."
E-mail J.D. Nordell at jdnordell at gmail dot com.
E-mail Darby Saxbe at darbysaxbe at yahoo dot com.
