Yes it’s summer, and what a year we’ve had in the fashion world already! What with an
increasingly obese nation turning to the flowery muumuu, the British army in Afghanistan
inspiring designer combat fatigues (occasionally speckled with fake blood) around the
gastropubs of Hoxton, and Pete from Big Brother making Tourette’s the ‘in’ psychiatric
disorder of the year, as the facile and easily-led ape his tics and mannerisms in the hope
plastic surgery-altered bimbos will enclose their lustful faces in breasts so large, they can never enter space
And as for the opposite gender to us men, that sex sometimes known as ‘women’, this time of terrorism, disease, oppression, and impending environmental catastrophe has meant personal appearance has taken on an even greater importance, particularly during that period of time between child-rearing and expiration known as ‘adult life’. For these crazy-beautiful shopaholics, there’s only one look to adopt during this year’s hottest months. Yes, the tastemakers have decreed that, this season, the style in which to be seen is ‘heavily pregnant’. Indeed, the bigger your bulge the better, from the point of view of our fascistic fashionistas.
You must have seen them, on public transport in midriff-exposing tops as they laugh at their own hideous fertility, or
demanding the best table in your local restaurant, then loudly complaining to a waiter for the rest of the evening. We
give up our seats for these walking incubators because their sacrifice is greater, applaud them for being able to
nurture future generations inside their swollen bellies. Yet the act is no longer a stepping stone to that life of misery
and indentured servitude it once was, back when Victorian husbands would forget all about their post-birthing wives,
instead running around in grey long-johns chasing the nanny. No, these girls flout their enormousness while they
can, no longer content to remain unseen, or think of themselves as misshapen freaks, to be locked away until
they slim down a bit. Instead, today’s mums-to-be do everything they can to be seen at neighbourhood
events, in exclusive bars and packed nightclubs, during the second half of their nine months childbearing.
“The smartest young women will have read my magazine toward the end of last year and worked out for themselves that this was going to happen.” Maintains style icon and Pussy Emancipation editor, Migsy Boner-Law. “This inkling would have led the clever ones to plan their pregnancy for mid-2006, and perhaps risk some unprotected sex round about last Christmas. Those who played the odds correctly are the lucky ones - they resemble bloody great whales right now, and that’s very much the look for the beach this August.”
Yes, these fertile women have been going at it like horny metronomes ever since impossible-to-ignore cultural
signs recently ordered them to get a bun in their collective oven. These indicators included Britney Spears,
thrusting her massive lump into the faces of passers-by from the cover of Vanity Fair, Tom Cruise gagging
Katie Holmes while she allegedly gave birth to the pair’s alleged offspring, and Davina McCall acting as a role
model to millions of airheadettes by running round the Big Brother house carrying double her normal heft.
Indeed, life for the average British woman in 2006 has been one long rush to conceive, so keen is she to attain a womb-proturberance of her own and have it showing by the end of the year. But many fashion writers speculate that, by Spring, this fad will have run it’s course, and pregnancy will once more be dismissed as ‘gauche’ and ‘fit only for chavs’.
“I never really understood the point of getting knocked up before.” Nineteen year old Argos employee Arabella
Wart told HDUK when we found her in Superdrug, shopping for pregnancy test kits. “But then I saw the
photos of Gwyneth Paltrow eight months gone and she looked so elegant and chuffed and big round the middle
like. That’s when I said to me boyfriend Gav – we gotta get ourselves one of them. I’ve seen the way women who
aren’t preggers look at them who are, with green eyes, like they’re gonna kill ‘em with a dirty look. I want
strangers to look at me that way.”
However, the likes of Arabella need to be careful. Many have tried copying the new body style of the rich and
famous on the cheap, stuffing cushions up Von Dutch tops, or hiring professional make up artists to strap
padding to their waists, then coating this baggage in a layer of latex skin. Such measures rarely look convincing,
and these ‘wannabe babymommas’ (as they’re known), often find themselves stopped by armed police on suspicion of carrying the explosives necessary to carry out suicide bombings. If they run away, these girls are jumped on and shot repeatedly in the head.
But this isn’t their only worry. Another fear for our self-appointed moral guardians is that many thick and suggestible breeding types, all caught in the rush to grab this latest ‘look’, will eventually find themselves with a consequence never considered, once their drug-assisted caesarean births go through this Autumn.
“Of course, we have concerns at Pussy Emancipation about what might happen to the actual baby after
all this pregnant posing ends.” Migsy explains. “Some of our readers seem to have foregone pre-natal classes
in order to spend more time parading themselves down Carnaby Street like some kind of inflated flesh
balloons. In these instances we would advise that, when the child actually arrives, it’s time for the father to
step in. He should arrange for this offspring to be adopted, or at least disposed of properly. Hospitals never
turn little kiddies away, and if your bundle of joy is left out the back of a maternity ward anonymously, trained
nurses will probably arrange for it to get a good home. This will, in turn, give the mother more time to
concentrate on assembling next year’s look, which I believe to be strappy shoes combined with cashmere
aprons.”
