When my partner Charlie got pregnant, we were awash in excitement, but there was one thing we weren’t looking forward to: shopping for maternity clothes. As a genderqueer butch, Charlie is not excited about struggling to hunt down the closest approximation of menswear on racks of belly-paneled leggings and empire-waist dresses. Around the time Charlie gets pregnant, we hear about a Kickstarter for this awesome new company called Butchbaby & Co, which is going to make clothing for pregnant butch and masculine-presenting people. There is a moment of elation before we get to the part about how you can’t actually buy their clothes yet. It’s kind of worse than if they didn’t exist at all. I know a lot of people still aren’t hip to the concept that genitals don’t determine gender, and men and non-binary people can get pregnant, but even if only women ever had babies, do we really have to assume that every one of them is so freaking femme? There’s only one maternity store at the mall near us, and it is a festival of pastels, florals, and unnecessary ruffles. I wouldn’t even wear some of this stuff, and I wear pink cowboy boots.
At first, Charlie thinks he’ll try to eschew maternity clothes altogether and just buy some bigger men’s pants. However, even before his baby bump is visible, he starts to hate having any amount of pressure on his stomach. Dude pants won’t stay up without a belt, and belts are out of the question, which means Charlie is going to have to buy some actual maternity pants. He starts with a Bella band, which lots of pregnant and formerly pregnant people swear by, but finds it too much of a hassle–so many layers of clothing have to be removed and then re-positioned every time he goes to the bathroom, which, since there’s a tiny proto-human kicking him in the bladder, is every fifteen seconds. The next step is maternity jeans. We spend an afternoon at the mall trying them on, but Charlie hates every single pair. “Why are the pockets so small?” he fumes. “All women’s pants pockets are unreasonably small,” I explain. “But why?” “Because the patriarchy wants us to depend on men to carry our keys for us so we’ll never be truly independent. Or everyone just assumes women will have purses.” Thank God boyfriend jeans are a thing, so Charlie can finally find one decent pair of pants that doesn’t have an unbearably girly fit (though he still resents the tiny pockets).
The next hurdle is maternity bra shopping, which will go down in history as one of the worst days in Charlie’s pregnancy, only slightly behind the day he was throwing up blood and we thought we would have to go to the ER. Charlie was already on the busty side, and pregnancy has put him on the far end of sizes that are carried in stores. He’s sore all the time, so underwire is unbearable. We’re looking for the butch undergarment equivalent of the Holy Grail: a bra that’s supportive without being painful, in a large cup size, without too much lace or other girliness. Our first stop is a department store, but Charlie tries on everything in his size (which is like four things) and none of them are comfortable enough to wear for five minutes, let alone all day. The lingerie saleswoman takes pity on us and directs us to a maternity store down the street. “Will they have anything in my size?” Charlie asks. “Oh, definitely,” she assures us. “We send people there all the time.” At the maternity store, Charlie doesn’t even get through a full sentence before the saleswoman is shaking her head. “We don’t carry above a DD cup,” she says. “But there’s a specialty lingerie store about a mile from here that has large cup sizes. I’m sure they have some maternity styles.” “Like, how sure?” says Charlie, who is tired and frustrated and doesn’t want to drive to another store only to strike out again. “Really sure,” she insists, so we head to the lingerie store to find that they are closed. Steam is coming out of Charlie’s ears (of course, it’s also summer and a million degrees outside) so we go home and buy a bra online as God and Al Gore intended.
Then there’s the formal wear problem. We have three weddings to attend while Charlie is pregnant, each about six weeks apart, so they’ll occur when Charlie is three totally different sizes. If anyone is considering a contemporary rewrite of Dante’s Inferno, I really recommend “shopping for butch maternity formalwear” as a new circle of hell. We finally come up with three outfits that will work: a pair of men’s pants in a larger size than usual and Charlie’s biggest pre-pregnancy button-down for the first wedding; the same pants with a Bella band and a maternity shirt for the second; and for the third (where Charlie is giving a reading, so looking sharp is especially important) a pair of maternity slacks and a plus-size women’s blouse, with a really good tie to make sure he’s still bringing the butch. None of these are ideal. Charlie prefers bow ties, but they look weird with an untucked shirt, and he can’t tuck his shirt into his maternity pants or Bella band. Plus, all the maternity and plus-size shirts are loose and flowy instead of tailored and crisp. But compromises have to be made.
If you’re a butch, androgynous, or transmasculine person who is or wants to become pregnant, here are Charlie’s shopping tips: Lower your expectations. That’s the big one. The options out there are incredibly limited, and it sucks, but until a lot more designers get on board the butch pregnancy train, you’re going to have to adjust to clothes that don’t perfectly suit your aesthetic. Remind yourself of two things: first, it’s only for nine months; second, no one expects you to look your best while you’re growing a human being. People will understand if your usually dapper wardrobe gets a little more relaxed for a while. Dress down. You might not be able to find a blazer that fits your baby bump like a dream, but you can probably find a big t-shirt and a flannel to wear over it. Stock up on things that are stretchy. The mall is not your friend. It’s probably a good idea to do some in-person shopping to figure out which styles are most comfortable–do you prefer an over-the-belly or under-the-belly panel? But don’t plan on buying anything, so you won’t get frustrated and disappointed when there’s nothing you want to buy. Trust us: there won’t be. Try stuff on, then order online. Do a lot of laundry. (Or, if you’re partnered, leverage “I’m growing you a baby!” to get your partner to do it for you.) There’s no point spending a ton of money on fashions that aren’t really you and you’re only going to wear for less than a year anyway; instead, buy a few things you can live with, and wear them into the ground. Charlie has gotten through this whole pregnancy on one pair of jeans, one pair of slacks, two button-downs, and about six oversize t-shirts, two of which are Indigo Girls concert tees. Finally, make sure you have great shoes. If your footwear is perfectly suited to your butch aesthetic, it will matter just a little less that the rest of your outfit isn’t your favorite. If you can afford to budget for one major clothing purchase during pregnancy, make it a pair of shoes that you love (and that has a little wiggle room for your swollen third-trimester feet). Pregnancy can be especially difficult for masculine-presenting people. It might sometimes feel like the whole world is lining up to undermine your gender identity and shove you into a feminine box. But remember that whatever you’re wearing, however limited your options, your clothes do not define who you are. Only you get to do that. |
