Yesterday I went shopping for a new bathing suit. A maternity bathing suit. As I'm sure many of you will agree with me, bathing suit shopping is equivalent, emotionally, to the pain you feel when receiving a bikini wax: it needs to be done but damn, it ain't pleasant. And having never shopped for a suit while pregnant before, I figured I ought to dread this outing as if I were getting a Brazilian. Add to the fact that my belly started to pop this week and I was doubtful I'd leave the dressing room with even a shred of self worth intact.
Strangely, I found the opposite to be true. I tried on four suits and although they didn't all look great, one did stand out as almost approaching attractive. Well, as attractive as you can appear when sporting a bowling ball around your middle. It had a black and white pattern with a plunging neckline accented in red, which diverted attention to my blossoming bosom. By drawing the eye upward towards my pleasingly perky breasts, this flirty neckline may just keep viewers from noticing (much) my burgeoning belly bulge beneath.
I had a winner! And it only cost me $32.99. Yep, I'm not ashamed to admit that I found this suit at T*rget. Why spend a bundle on a suit I'll only wear a handful of times? This is one pregnant chick who prefers to pinch pennies, especially as far as maternity "fashion" is concerned.