This week Peta Todd talks about the difficulties of finding her style again after giving birth

WHEN I pop a baby out something peculiar happens to me. I lose my sense of style. My wardrobe identity disappears into thin air.

Not only does it make getting out of the house even trickier than it already is with an extra human in tow, but it plants a seed of doubt in my head that even though I’m out of my maternity jeans, I may never actually resemble the woman I was before.

As I stand in front of my mirror trying to throw together an outfit, I hate everything and discard items in a pile on the floor next to me.

Everything I wore before seems so alien.

I make a pact with myself – as I have after each of my children.

I promise to start making an effort.

I will stop saving clothes “for best” and will buy a couple of new pieces I love – and burn every item of clothing in my possession that I now hate.

Then, I’ll be cooking on gas.

So commences a frantic cycle of online shopping, ordering items that are so far out of my comfort zone – and my age bracket (I’m 31).

If anyone was to take a peek into the deliveries that start appearing on my doorstep they could be forgiven for thinking that Ariana Grande and Miss Marple were roommates at my address.

As fast as my parcels arrive, they get sent back. I am in style limbo.

I’m not quite ready for granny slacks yet but it’s not like I need outfits for going out on the razz either.

Sequin unicorn all-in-ones with cut-out bum cheeks are neither aimed at me nor fair game on the school run.

I’d hoped that after my fourth baby I would be ready for this, but I was wrong.

I am in the rut right now.

But thankfully, I know I just need to ride it out and the real “me” will resurface in due course.

For now my go-to fashion fixtures are my gym kit and jeans with a black or white T-shirt.

I’ve had a few blips – such as the outfits that look like I’ve borrowed them from Kylie Jenner and are living their best life on my clothes rail.

But that’s OK.
I have learnt that even though I am an adapted version of my former self – I am now a new person’s mum – I am still the same person as I was before my babies were even a thought in my mind.

Do I want to wear 18-year-old Peta’s clothes? No way.

Back then, I wore a key on a black shoelace as a choker and only wore peach foundation, even though my neck was milk white.

Thankfully, I have evolved since then.

Life is an adventure and really, would you wear the same thing to trek to the North Pole as you would to cross the Sahara Desert?

The same can be said for my journey as a woman.