Last week, I received a package I’d ordered from Savannah, Georgia, and inside was a $19 vintage metallic blouse with 1980s padded shoulders and a retro “David Hayes for Saks Fifth Avenue” label inside. The measurements on Etsy said it would fit my current frame, which—thanks to pregnancy—is undergoing some adjustments.

The shirt looked as I’d pictured it in some ways (the round neckline isn’t stretched out like some vintage styles; the puff shoulders—a small styling quirk I tend to think of as my signature—sat perfectly and looked just out-there enough to be cool; and the sleeves hit my true wrist buttoned, but also have a relaxed, loose charm when rolled up.) But the hem was too damn tight, something I’d normally remedy by tucking it into a pair of high-waisted jeans, preferably those with a wide, cropped leg and frayed hem, or maybe my favorite shiny spandex American Apparel pants—also high waisted—for a night out.

But there are not many nights out, and this otherwise perfect top looked ridiculous with the one pair of $29 Zara elastic waist culottes I’ve been wearing almost daily since I realized nothing in my closet that has a zipper, a snap, a hook, or anything that resembles a defined waist fits. Back to my regularly scheduled program of boxy tees and stretchy tops.

I am almost 34 weeks along, which is seven and a half months, and I’m tremendously bored with my own personal style. Picking out my clothes in the morning—and realizing daily that a new favorite no longer fits—is an exercise in patience, often one that ends with my not feeling like myself.

I understand this is a time to focus on dressing comfortably—everyone tells me that—but what happens when you’re most comfortable in fitted vintage tops and stiff jeans? Or things with buttons? Or things that remain the length they’re meant to be without riding up and exposing a sliver of what looks like a slightly pointed basketball, black line included? The truth is, I enjoy clothing, and the act of choosing what I put on has often been a soothing activity for me, like an elaborate skin-care routine is for other women.

As much as I appreciate the fact that I have carte blanche to show up anywhere right now—work included—wearing yoga pants and a loose knit cardigan, stretched-out sweaters that have been stuffed into a forgotten drawer all summer, or anything that resembles a tent, I also know I wouldn’t.

Still, I can’t rely on my own closet so since becoming pregnant, I’ve had to go in search of a few new things because no matter what anyone tells you, shopping is essential. About 75% of my wardrobe was unadaptable, except for some the aforementioned sweaters, extra-stretchy leggings, and two or three expandable “bodycon” dresses I’d been too self-conscious to wear over the years yet continued to purchase. However, I’ve taken care to buy things that check two boxes: suit my personal style and generally fall within an under-$50 price range.

I’m aware that, in 2018, there are plenty of modern, elevated labels designed for the chic pregnant woman, and they make some beautiful things, but I personally have a hard time justifying spending upwards of $200 for items that will be retired in a matter of months—especially when sites like H&M and Zara are stocked with pieces I’ve found to be perfectly worthy, and make me feel like I’m not fully settling or compromising my sense of style, which unapologetically feels a little trendier and a little more fleeting than some “classic” luxury maternitywear.

Below, you’ll find some items I’ve purchased—all around $50 or less; all excellent at most stages of pregnancy. Some are specifically cut as maternity wear—ASOS’ section is a godsend—but others aren’t, and are simply made from highly-stretchy material. Some pieces I’ve had to buy in much larger sizes, and others not so much, but all are things I’ve worn consistently.

And while I’m excited to get back into things like the vintage Etsy tops, I’m also glad I have a curated collection of comfortable pieces that feel somewhat reflective of my pre-pregnancy style and that didn’t set me back tremendously. I also do not feel these pieces, though bought from fast-fashion retailers, are particularly disposable, as most I’ll continue to wear postpartum.

I’d also like to point out that I’m suggesting products as a petite person—5’2 and generally pretty slim. I have found success purchasing non-maternity clothing in sizes larger than I’d normally wear, but I get this isn’t a feasible strategy for all women, as several inexpensive retailers don’t go beyond a vague size “XL” or 12 to 14. Some have been making strides in that department, and others offer plus collections, but I understand dressing while pregnant isn’t always as simple as sizing up. Which is why I hope more affordable brands create stylish clothing women actually want to wear in expanded sizes.

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