Saying goodbye to style.

Nothing says you're 'up the duff' (really not the loveliest expression, is it) quite like maternity jeans.

MATERNITY JEANS.

I mean those hideous jeans with an elastic waistband that fly the comfort pride flag rather than the fashionista one.

I'm hardly Rachel Zoe (and thank God for that) but I never quite imagined myself wearing elastic waistband jeans. In fact, the heavens had a little snigger at me about this very issue just last week... I headed over to a girlfriend's place on Friday night, 15 weeks pregnant. When I arrived, I pulled up my shirt (relax folks, it wasn't that kind of party - not enough champagne) and proudly showed her that I was still fitting into my regular jeans! She oohed and ahhed and kindly served me pasta and cake, and then we settled down to watch The Kennedys mini-series.

Except, after all that pasta and cake I just couldn't concentrate, despite JFK and Bobby and all their rrraow-ness. I kept wriggling and writhing on my friend's couch, even though I was lying flat on my back.

My friend asked me, "Are you OK?"

I replied, "I can't breathe. I need maternity jeans."

No less than a few hours after I was showing off about not needing them. Cue friends' laughter.

So, the next day, I hurtled to the store and picked up two pairs. And, can I tell you a secret folks? I am never taking them off. B can't even get me drunk enough to get these babies off, because I can't get drunk right now. BOOYAH.

Who invented these genius devices, and where can I subscribe to their entire being? I may not be cool, but my lord I'm comfortable. **Runs to the store to buy a comfort pride flag and hang it in the window like a Brazilian**.

p.s. I promise to post a baby bump pic soon!