of my suitcase and oohing approval. Or not, in the case of my pattered DVF wrap dress. That put that out of the running for my
Gloss
presentation then. ‘Since when?’
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t having kids,’ I grumbled, shaking out a very creased blue silk Tibi dress. I was going to have to iron. Or at least my mum was. ‘I just don’t have any interest in the actual physical having of them. Why haven’t we evolved past that yet? Why can’t they just put me under, pop it out and wake me up when it’s been washed and dressed?’
Louisa had a very peculiar ‘not amused’ look on her face.
‘We haven’t talked about it.’ I threw the dress over the back of a chair by my dresser and moved on to my T-shirts. And by my T-shirts, I meant the band T-shirts I’d acquired from Alex and all the lovely kitteny soft Splendid tees I’d nicked from Erin and Jenny’s office. ‘We’ve literally just got engaged. I’m not going to ask him when he’s planning to knock me up.’
She looked away and bit on an already chewed-down fingernail.
‘And neither are you,’ I commanded.
‘Fine.’ She went back to pulling stuff out of my case, purring over a pair of Gucci sandals. My post-Vegas treat. I settled back against the chair for a moment and took a better look at my bestie. It wasn’t just her fingernails that were suffering. Her ponytail was covering up some pretty dodgy dark blonde roots and someone had been hitting the Batiste pretty hard. Of course there were baby-induced dark circles, and no, she wouldn’t be slipping back into that twenty-four-inch-waist wedding dress again any time soon, but that was to be expected. What made me uncomfortable was seeing bright and shiny Louisa look so faded and tired. As if she was even less interested in having a baby than I had been five minutes earlier. Which was to say not interested at all.
‘Really, Lou, it’s not on my agenda right now.’ I took my prized McQueen clutch, a January sale steal, from her hands and placed it on the dresser. ‘Don’t worry about me. Or Alex. Or our future awesome babies. They’re going to be fine.’
‘There’s just so much to think about,’ she sighed. ‘I couldn’t even start to prepare you. It’s not just the baby − it’s being pregnant, it’s buying everything, it’s trying to get ready for something you could never ever get ready for. The way it changes your body, your relationship and, oh God, the sleep.’ She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. ‘And more than anything else, it’s giving up silly, selfish stuff because it’s not about you any more.’
‘Silly selfish stuff?’ I didn’t think I wanted to hear the rest of this sentence.
‘Running off to New York? Popping into LA for work, to Paris, to Vegas.’ She pulled on the end of her ponytail, reading my mind. ‘I haven’t even got time to go to the hairdresser.’
‘It’s not like I would do those things if I had a baby,’ I said, trying really hard not to be offended. ‘But just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean we’re going to have a kid straightaway. We’ve got stuff we want to do first. Alex has this record to tour, I have the magazine to launch. We haven’t even set a date yet, remember?’
‘I recall,’ she said, ploughing headfirst into my underwear. ‘I just think it’s best to know these things before he puts a ring on your finger. Another ring,’ she added when I held up my hand. ‘What are you going to do when he wants to go off on tour and you’re at home with a teething baby and no one to help? I won’t be there. Your mum won’t be there. His family don’t live in New York, do they?’
‘You really don’t need to worry about me,’ I promised, taking my days of the week underwear from her and pretending her disapproval was based entirely on my lack of baby-preparedness. Clearly I wasn’t ready to have a child: I was still wearing children’s pants myself. ‘There is no bun in this
Gloss
presentation then. ‘Since when?’
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t having kids,’ I grumbled, shaking out a very creased blue silk Tibi dress. I was going to have to iron. Or at least my mum was. ‘I just don’t have any interest in the actual physical having of them. Why haven’t we evolved past that yet? Why can’t they just put me under, pop it out and wake me up when it’s been washed and dressed?’
Louisa had a very peculiar ‘not amused’ look on her face.
‘We haven’t talked about it.’ I threw the dress over the back of a chair by my dresser and moved on to my T-shirts. And by my T-shirts, I meant the band T-shirts I’d acquired from Alex and all the lovely kitteny soft Splendid tees I’d nicked from Erin and Jenny’s office. ‘We’ve literally just got engaged. I’m not going to ask him when he’s planning to knock me up.’
She looked away and bit on an already chewed-down fingernail.
‘And neither are you,’ I commanded.
‘Fine.’ She went back to pulling stuff out of my case, purring over a pair of Gucci sandals. My post-Vegas treat. I settled back against the chair for a moment and took a better look at my bestie. It wasn’t just her fingernails that were suffering. Her ponytail was covering up some pretty dodgy dark blonde roots and someone had been hitting the Batiste pretty hard. Of course there were baby-induced dark circles, and no, she wouldn’t be slipping back into that twenty-four-inch-waist wedding dress again any time soon, but that was to be expected. What made me uncomfortable was seeing bright and shiny Louisa look so faded and tired. As if she was even less interested in having a baby than I had been five minutes earlier. Which was to say not interested at all.
‘Really, Lou, it’s not on my agenda right now.’ I took my prized McQueen clutch, a January sale steal, from her hands and placed it on the dresser. ‘Don’t worry about me. Or Alex. Or our future awesome babies. They’re going to be fine.’
‘There’s just so much to think about,’ she sighed. ‘I couldn’t even start to prepare you. It’s not just the baby − it’s being pregnant, it’s buying everything, it’s trying to get ready for something you could never ever get ready for. The way it changes your body, your relationship and, oh God, the sleep.’ She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. ‘And more than anything else, it’s giving up silly, selfish stuff because it’s not about you any more.’
‘Silly selfish stuff?’ I didn’t think I wanted to hear the rest of this sentence.
‘Running off to New York? Popping into LA for work, to Paris, to Vegas.’ She pulled on the end of her ponytail, reading my mind. ‘I haven’t even got time to go to the hairdresser.’
‘It’s not like I would do those things if I had a baby,’ I said, trying really hard not to be offended. ‘But just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean we’re going to have a kid straightaway. We’ve got stuff we want to do first. Alex has this record to tour, I have the magazine to launch. We haven’t even set a date yet, remember?’
‘I recall,’ she said, ploughing headfirst into my underwear. ‘I just think it’s best to know these things before he puts a ring on your finger. Another ring,’ she added when I held up my hand. ‘What are you going to do when he wants to go off on tour and you’re at home with a teething baby and no one to help? I won’t be there. Your mum won’t be there. His family don’t live in New York, do they?’
‘You really don’t need to worry about me,’ I promised, taking my days of the week underwear from her and pretending her disapproval was based entirely on my lack of baby-preparedness. Clearly I wasn’t ready to have a child: I was still wearing children’s pants myself. ‘There is no bun in this
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