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Boden for Breastfeeding! Win a necklace

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For National Breastfeeding Week 2012, I’ve been asking retailers to support the UK’s breastfeeding mums by searching their collections for fabulous breastfeeding friendly outfits.

Boden logoBoden are offering the “Show Stopping Necklace” featured in this post to one lucky reader. To be in with a chance of winning, just leave me a comment below telling me which outfit you like best. For a bonus entry, either like MilkChic on Facebook or tweet the following on Twitter:

“I want to win a Show Stopping Necklace with @bodenclothing and @milkchic http://www.milkchic.co.uk/56266 #NationalBreastfeedingWeek”

For a christening:

Wear the Paris Jersey Dress, £59.40 with a Show Stopping Necklace (Radish), £26.25, some T-Bar Flower Heels (Truffle), £88 and finish with the gorgeous Leaf Bracelet (Silver), £108.

Just layer over a nursing vest if you want to keep covered while feeding.

For an evening out with friends:

Pair the Twist Jersey Top, £20.30 with versatileSkinny Jeans in Marina Blue, £47.20, add gorgeous Suede Peep Toes (Radish), £79.20 and finish with a Must Have Bag (Sunflower), £89.

Again, a nursing vest will keep you covered if you feel at all self conscious.

For a BBQ with friends:

This Summer Shirt Dress, £41.40 is perfect for Barbecue season. Throw on some Embellished Sandals (Tan), £51.75, and enjoy the admiring glances from behind your Roadtrip Shades (Pewter), £36.75. The Classic Colourful Tote (Tan), £111.75 is roomy enough for all the family essentials.

Add a contrasting nursing vest for extra confidence.

You can find lots more breastfeeding friendly Boden clothing on the main shop pages! Don’t forget to check out the rest of the National Breastfeeding Week 2012 posts with more outfit inspiration and more giveaways!

Terms & Conditions: Closing date for entries: 08 July 2012. This competition is open to entries from the UK and Ireland only. Winners will be chosen at random after the closing date.

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Christening Tales & Daddy Fails (or never knowingly underdressed…)

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Tesco histening gownYesterday we went to the christening of my best friend’s daughter. An important christening – myself and Mr MilkChic are her godparents. It started at 10am and we live 45 minutes away, so we figured that if we showered and packed the night before, and got up at 6.30, we’d just make it on time, and maybe even manage to deliver a potato salad to a cooler storage place beforehand.

(If anyone reading this is questioning the need to pack for an event less than an hour away which would only last a few hours, or indeed why you might need just under 3 hours to get ready even without showering… I’m hoping you don’t have kids? Just don’t tell me – I can feel inadequate without your help!)

It was all going well. Small one, who had been rather ill, hadn’t been sick for 24hrs and was in bed on time, with my Dad standing by as contingency babysitter. The Curly one had found her dress and shoes. Mr MilkChic had declared his kilt wearable without alterations, and I spent a glorious hour and a half in the bathroom alone – dying, shaving, moisturising, and generally acting like a woman without kids before a big event. Admittedly I wouldn’t have considered a christening such a big event back then, but I don’t get out much these days.

With the weather so variable, it didn’t seem worth getting small one’s outfit ready the night before and I didn’t want to risk waking her up so Mr Milkchic was briefed to bath her in the morning while I organised clothes.

Military planning is clearly the route to a successful family outing and we moved like a well-oiled machine… I ironed my dress and did my hair while Mr got small one dressed. He even found socks to match her outfit! I did her hair while he got into his kilt. We packed nappies and snacks in record time. Curly was wonderfully self-sufficient, managing to wear a dress AND a smile at the same time… and, a few minutes later than planned, we were standing on the drive, groomed and ready to go. Perfection! Smug? Moi??

Well, almost perfection.

As I bustled small one into the car, she looked confused.

“I can’t, Mummy.”

I tried again in my best Mary Poppins impression, “Of course you can. Just squeeze past Mummy and hop in like a rabbit!”

She looked distressed.

“I can’t, Mummy! I’ve got NO KNICKERS!“, lifting her dress above her head to emphasise the point.

At least Mr MilkChic had the grace to look sheepish. Apparently he’d spent so long chasing her around the house to get the rest of her clothes on that knickers were overlooked.

And it could have been worse. She could have waited until we got to the church…

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