Gestation, have to get away

Props are due to the New York Observer for giving legitimate media voice to the one of my latent fashion fears: That the trend of empire tops and baby-doll dresses might on some level be aspirational maternity wear.

I knew something about that silhouette always unnerved me, beyond the raging case of waist-vanity that's kept me from even being tempted to buy in.

Who knew it could be part of a larger, infinitely more tragic narrative about how New York City is no longer the place young, idealistic, career-minded women flock to find fulfillment -- it's still the "it" place for that class, but "career" has been replaced with "mommy."

One "pre-parent" named Alison sums it up best: "Even my sluttiest friends are having kids now, which is alarming."

You know, because sluts are like frogs, more sensitive to changes in the environment.

The editor in chief of the pop-cultural arbiter that is US Weekly also weighs in, noting: "It's almost un-American at this point to say you don't want children, especially from an image perspective. It's almost like saying you're a communist."

Or almost like not wearing a flag pin on your lapel.

Seriously, what new species of nonsense is this?

Setting aside all arguments of logic, politics and ethics, who wants status in a world in which the outing of Dumbledore is a multi-day story? In which presidential candidates, longshots though they may be, commune with flying saucers? In which you can't even hang fake corpses from a tree for Halloween anymore without it having racial implications?

But alas, "In this age of 'mom'-ism, where success is grand but motherhood is holy, women who declare they don't want kids are considered self-haters or throwbacks."

While there are certainly worse things than being a throwback, I must protest at being lumped into the self-hater brigade. See, if I were a self-hater, I'd want kids.

It's all just frustrating. But such is life.

I hear self-mutilation helps, but I'm too vain to try it.