Pants Paralysis, or, Can You Take a Buggy Into Ann Summers?

OK, so I’ve more or less lost my baby weight. The baby’s given up the boob, so I’ve lost the nursing bras. But I haven’t lost the maternity kecks. I just can’t give them up! I’d like to say they just fall off me now, but that is the power of elastic, my friends – they adapt to the changing contours of woman. The relief, after a decade in thongs, of my first pregnancy, when I bought my first pack of pants, has never left me. They’re so damned comfy, so easy to throw on – they go with anything! Except womanly pride. There’s just nothing – nothing – sexy about a maternity pant.
From Maternity To…Where?

So it was that I ended up lingering around lingerie. I was shopping for something else (school shoe labelling stickers, if you must delve into my glamorous life) and happened to pass Ann Summers. My chance had come! I could fling out the jumbo underwear and start my new life as a Woman from the inside out. But there was something tying my hands…my buggy handles. Attached, of course, to my baby-bearing buggy. Was it right to take an infant into this emporium of sauce?
Obviously, the circle of life and all that – we know where babies come from after all, so what’s wrong with browsing the briefs with the product of the most natural thing on earth? Probably nothing, but yet, I hesitated, paused on the threshold of pants redemption – and then noticed that Hotel Chocolat was just over the way, and diverted there instead. If I’m not going to buy a smaller pant, I reasoned, I may as well try and fit the pants I’m in.
And so now, I am in pants paralysis. Caught between the desire to upgrade my underwear and the need to pop on my pants. So the second thing on my Christmas List (for my first, see here) is: some comfortable, but attractive knickerage. I spotted these ones in Fat Face today, but suggestions are welcome!


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