Postpartum Closet Purge

New clothes get old fast when your daily “accessory” is spit up and breastmilk

By Lydia Hyslop
Instagram

My son was born in 2016, and I am just now finally starting to feel comfortable with my current style and closet. No one told me how difficult it is to adapt your personal style to the physical and emotional demands of pregnancy and the subsequent domino effect that ushers you into #momlife. I don’t have a simple how-to for this; each person’s style is so particular that it’s impossible to generalize. Body types vary, moods vary, and fashion is always changing. What I can offer are some insights I gleaned after looking back on the last five years of motherhood, from pregnancy to being the mom of an almost-5-year-old.

I’ve been thrifting and wearing vintage since I was 12 years old (oh, to be young again, when every thrift store in the ’90s was somehow chock full of vintage ringer tees and pinwale corduroy bell-bottoms!). But it wasn’t until I became a mom that I started hyper-analyzing what I was buying and, more importantly, why. Thus began my journey away from fast fashion and towards a more fully sustainable lifestyle for my family. It’s possible that I wouldn’t be so keen on sustainable living had I not become a mom. Parenthood really forces you into examining not only grand-scheme sustainability but also the day-to-day. You start investing in things that will get you through the marathon not the sprint. If this feels overwhelming to the new parent, don’t worry — you’ll have plenty of time to Google everything under the sun every time you breastfeed or while the baby sleeps!

Pictured: My partner and I with our new baby at a wedding in White Sands, New Mexico in October 2016. I am one month postpartum and wearing an overpriced jumpsuit from Anthropologie. I associate this piece with engorged breasts, nursing in the bathroom at the wedding (because I had to take the whole top down to do so), and barely being able to zip it back up by myself. It was not practical. Sadly I never wore it again after this day, so it is no longer in my closet.

Pictured: My partner and I with our new baby at a wedding in White Sands, New Mexico in October 2016. I am one month postpartum and wearing an overpriced jumpsuit from Anthropologie. I associate this piece with engorged breasts, nursing in the bathroom at the wedding (because I had to take the whole top down to do so), and barely being able to zip it back up by myself. It was not practical. Sadly I never wore it again after this day, so it is no longer in my closet.

Before I was a parent, my wardrobe consisted of equal parts vintage and contemporary. I bought what I liked when I wanted it without much more thought. Once I had a kid, though, I found it IMPOSSIBLE to physically go shopping. I went down a pretty dark hole of online shopping in an effort to look like a cool and cute new mom while breastfeeding and riding the rollercoaster of postpartum weight fluctuation and hormones. This was a quick fix in a desperate attempt to appear naturally stylish and seemingly effortless during a rocky period, but as soon as my body plateaued and settled into its new, bonafide mombod form, I found myself purging all the fast fashion pieces I had naively thought would be staples of my new mom wardrobe. They either didn’t fit or their trendy moment had passed. I no longer wanted to wear ANYTHING that reminded me of the breastfeeding era.

Breastfeeding style is so tough! I put all my “regular” clothes on hiatus for the two years I breastfed. I strictly wore tops that could be easily pulled down or that could casually fit a baby underneath them. My boobs were hanging out more than not, and I’m pretty sure at a certain point I just gave up on looking cute. It was easier to dress for the breast than to worry about looking cute. I wouldn’t even wear dresses unless they had loose fitting necklines or buttoned up the front (you can’t really pull your whole dress up in public to breastfeed). I was excited to wean my kid for the sheer fact that it opened up a whole new category of dresses and tops with higher necklines that I had sworn off.

Pictured: Me holding my son on my first Mother’s Day in May 2017. I’m wearing a short off-the-shoulder dress with bell-sleeves from ASOS, my go-to retailer during my postpartum fast fashion addiction. I bought this because I wanted that perfect first Mother’s Day photo. I wanted to look like an easy-breezy natural mama, but I felt contrived in it (why was I wearing those heels)? Ultimately this look wasn’t for me, but at least the dress worked well for breastfeeding; the elastic neckline was conducive to whipping out a boob. I was learning after eight months!

Pictured: Me holding my son on my first Mother’s Day in May 2017. I’m wearing a short off-the-shoulder dress with bell-sleeves from ASOS, my go-to retailer during my postpartum fast fashion addiction. I bought this because I wanted that perfect first Mother’s Day photo. I wanted to look like an easy-breezy natural mama, but I felt contrived in it (why was I wearing those heels)? Ultimately this look wasn’t for me, but at least the dress worked well for breastfeeding; the elastic neckline was conducive to whipping out a boob. I was learning after eight months!

The biggest advice I could give to you if you’re about to carry, birth, or breastfeed a baby would be to avoid buying anything “new” at all! Your body is about to change so much, and you’re going to have such strong associations with the clothes you wore that got covered in spit-up and breastmilk, or that just remind you of unfavorably hormonal days. Wear old clothes you already own that will work, or buy some key pieces second-hand and call it a day! I recently visited a new mom friend and her baby, and she gifted me a very cute muumuu. When I asked her why she didn’t want it, she simply said she wore it when she was pregnant, and I understood (she is also breastfeeding now, and it would be impossible to do so in that particular muumuu). By now, I have purged my closet of every single item I wore when I breastfed and was pregnant.

Pictured: I’m seven months pregnant, taking a selfie in my bedroom mirror. I’m wearing a stretchy animal print dress (non-maternity) from H&M, purchased from the sale rack. This dress only looked good on me when I was pregnant. The fit was quite odd on my postpartum bod and it had to go.

Pictured: I’m seven months pregnant, taking a selfie in my bedroom mirror. I’m wearing a stretchy animal print dress (non-maternity) from H&M, purchased from the sale rack. This dress only looked good on me when I was pregnant. The fit was quite odd on my postpartum bod and it had to go.

I would also advise you not to succumb to maternity clothes when you’re pregnant. They’re overpriced and mostly ugly. The cut is always so conservative; everything I ever tried on in a maternity store seemed to severely age me or made me feel like I was dressing as someone I’m not. Why are maternity clothes the “only” option for pregnant people? And they’re designed to, what … mask the fact that we’re pregnant? Minimize the size of our bellies? I think we should stop trying to hide our baby bumps and just embrace them! You literally can’t hide the bump no matter how hard you try, so why not lean into form-fitting stretchy clothes? I think they call them “bodycon” these days, but it’s basically just spandex. It’s comfortable around the bump, at least! My two cents is that pregnant women actually look cuter in form-fitting attire than not. Or there are always vintage muumuus…

Pictured: A summer day in a strawberry patch. I’m seated on the ground with a child in my lap, wearing a vintage pajama top and a pair of vintage overalls that I wear all of the time. My son sits in the foreground, poised to eat a strawberry.

Pictured: A summer day in a strawberry patch. I’m seated on the ground with a child in my lap, wearing a vintage pajama top and a pair of vintage overalls that I wear all of the time. My son sits in the foreground, poised to eat a strawberry.

Five years into motherhood, my everyday style consists of casual, practical vintage pieces like overalls, house dresses, loungers, and jam pants. Think of me like The Dude (a la The Big Lebowski) but in a 30-something mombod. I like wearing clothes that I can be comfortable in while I’m playing on the floor or outside with my son. My closet does contain some “vintage” fast-fashion — pieces I bought years ago but that I will continue to wear until they’re threadbare. I will hoard something for decades if it fits and I still like it; I have some shirts since college, and I’m fine with that as long as they’re still in rotation. These days, I’d rather spend my money on an experience with friends or family, a home improvement project, or something for my kid.

Pictured: I’m sitting on a park bench with my son and partner wearing a vintage turquoise and white striped dress with a ruffled neckline (a gift I received for Mother’s Day).

Pictured: I’m sitting on a park bench with my son and partner wearing a vintage turquoise and white striped dress with a ruffled neckline (a gift I received for Mother’s Day).

My Achilles heel is a special occasion vintage dress. I can justify the price tag of a special vintage piece since it keeps my money out of the fast fashion industry while simultaneously extending the life of garments that might otherwise end up in a landfill. It’s an added bonus to be able to put money directly into a small business owner’s pocket. I really love buying from fellow vintage sellers, especially fellow mama sellers! There are quite a lot of us out there, and it’s a very supportive community. Plus, most vintage is timeless and has resale value if my style evolves again. This Mother’s Day, I spelled out far in advance to my partner that I wanted a particular vintage dress. I know that doesn’t sound very romantic, to be explicit about what gift you’d like, but with parenthood comes loss of brain cells.

Becoming anti-waste and anti-fast-fashion also makes you a terrible gift recipient. I now prefer to wait for something specific that I know I will like and can enjoy in good conscience. And if I can support a fellow vintage seller, particularly all those badass hard-working mama vintage sellers, well then that’s the icing on the cake! I see you, fellow mamas who sell vintage, and you’re all doing awesome. It’s not an easy business!

To recap, embrace the bump, buy nothing new, and surrender to the beautiful mess that is parenthood. It only gets messier. Remember that in due time you’ll find peace in your new everyday style if you can patiently get through the wild ride of the early years. Give yourself permission to enjoy it without letting fashion woes interfere. As they say, the days are long but the years are short, and we have bigger fish to fry than to worry about trendy maternity pants (which are a cruel joke).

Editor: Phoebe Bates | Designer: Emma Geddes | Copy Editor: Katie Frankowicz | Communication/Support/Outreach: Karrie Witkin

 

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