Well, I used to have standards.

Dear maternity designers,

Why do you hate the pregnant women of the world?

I'm serious. What did we ever do to you? Did a pregnant woman push you down some stairs? Yell at you in a hormonal rage? Did your mother force you to listen to Rush Limbaugh in utero?

Whatever happened, it must have been awful. Scarring, even. Because I can think of no other reason for you to design such hideous and ill-fitting maternity wear. It's pretty clear you're out for revenge.

I'm a girly-girl. I like clothes. A lot. And I am very particular about them. This is not to say I have an amazing wardrobe — I've certainly made my share of unfortunate purchases. However, I have standards. Standards which should be adhered to, even when sporting a stomach the size of a watermelon.

While my standards extend to most everything (For example, sweaters should always be fitted and hit mid-hip. There is nothing worse than a short, boxy sweater.), they are most important when it comes to jeans.

Jeans need to be cute, comfortable, versatile, and long enough to wear with heels. They have to be at least 95% cotton. Jeans with too much stretch hug all the wrong places, and make you look like a trashy teenage girl. They also become misshapen after about 20 minutes of wear. A perfect pair of jeans is dark wash, with a straight or slightly flared leg, and a trouser-y look to them. They can be dressed up for work or dressed down for play.

Unfortunately, jeans like this do not exist in maternity wear.

Okay, that's not entirely true. I could buy a pair of designer maternity jeans for $150-$250. But that's not going to happen. I'm not spending tons of money on a pair of jeans I can only wear for six months. I would need some type of written guarantee that the style would still be appropriate years from now when I decide to have another child — or that they can be easily converted into regular jeans post-delivery. And even then, I'd still be hesitant to spend that kind of money on pants. I did that once, on a pair of 7 for all Mankind jeans, and almost immediately gained weight and couldn't wear them anymore. I considered that a very important, very expensive shopping lesson. (It could also be considered a very important eating less and exercising more lesson, but let's not get technical.)

I am finally to the point where regular pants no longer fit (I've been walking around the office with my zipper down, totally professional-like), so I dragged myself to the Mall of America on Monday night. I figured the MOA was my best shot at finding jeans — especially since i have the added bonus of needing long length.

Nope.

The Gap and Old Navy don't carry long lengths in their store. You can order them online (which I tried to do from the Gap - but ended up with a pair that was too big and a pair that fit but was mislabeled "long" when it should have been "ankle"). So I ventured over to Motherhood Maternity, the store my friend Jo calls "the weird store." And she's right, it's totally weird. Kind of like a cross between Walmart and JC Penney. Crowded, unorganized...just bizarre. And of course they don't carry long lengths in the store either. The sales girl said they carry them online, but they must be sold out, because I can't find them.

I ended up trying on jeans there despite the length issue, because short pants are better than unbuttoned pants. And I found two pairs that work. I use the word "work" loosely, because they are stretchy, not particularly attractive, and I can't wear heels with them. But the stomach (secret fit belly, which came highly recommended by my girlfriends) is big and stretchy and soooo comfortable. And at some point, comfort and the ability to keep your underwear hidden from coworkers becomes more important than personal standards.

Which is probably what those bitter maternity designers are betting on. They think we're so desperate for pants we'll take any ugly old thing they're selling.

They are mostly right.

However, no amount of desperation could have convinced me to purchase the Liz Lange for Target jeans I tried on last night. They looked normal on the rack, but to my surprise and dismay, they were skinny jeans.

Skinny jeans with a pregnant belly? You have got to be kidding me, Liz. I don't care what horrific thing happened to you at the hands of a pregnant woman. You probably deserved it, given those terrifying pants.