Saw It On Social: Hatch Mama

Hatch, the maternity brand beloved by influencers everywhere.  The second you download a pregnancy tracking app into your phone, the ads for it will appear.  Then, the promoted posts filled with gorgeous women, cupping their growing bellies lovingly.  But is Hatch the maternity style savior it’s cracked up to be?

Hatch is the influencer beloved pregnancy brand spoken about in hush tones.  Gwyneth wore it, the Duchess did too. And you’ve probably seen your favorite pregnant influencers delicately applying their oh-my-god-totally-life-changing-must-have Belly Oil.  So let’s start by talking about that oil.

The pale pink, botanical Belly Oil is touted as the ultimate preventative for stretch marks.  So when I developed a bump, I bought a bottle.  It sat on my nightstand, the blush-colored liquid glistening in the sunshine.  And that’s where it still sits, full almost to the top with the broken promises of hundreds of sponsored posts.

First off, my skin was still dry even immediately after using it.  This facilitated 3x per day application.  But no matter how much I applied, my skin was still dry.  So dry some days that it itched.  And this did not change no matter how much I used.

Also, a glass bottle with a dropper might look great in an Instagram reel, but the functionality of that packaging is deeply unrealistic, verging on aspirational. Every flat surface the bottle touches winds up covered in small droplets of oil, unless you treat the dropper with a delicacy usually reserved for priceless works of art…or explosive ordinance.  So while the oil may be their “#1 Best Selling Product,” it was a total let down for me.

As for the clothing, Hatch’s clothes are expensive. $250-plus for a sun dress.  $98 for their pregnancy-style-savior Striped Top.  Which, okay, if I can wear these pieces in the 2nd-4th trimesters, the money might be worth it.  But a sun dress post baby will only work if I winter in Arizona, and let’s talk about the top for a minute, because a more disappointing article of clothing I have never purchased.

Hatch’s sizing makes no sense.  It’s based on pre-pregnancy size, so as a medium, I followed the size guide and bought a size 2.  It was enormous.  And not just enormous for my 20-week size.  I gave it to a friend who is 34-weeks in, and a size 10 normally, and her text the day she tried it on said, “Is this a tent?  Where are the poles?”

The top is so big on her, that the breeze actually blows up through it, so she has to wear a tank under it to stay warm.  Oh, and she washed it for the second time and noticed pilling.  Because that’s a sign of quality.

After gifting her the most disappointing gift I’ve ever given anybody, I bought a size 1 for myself (I’d ordered it pre-pilling) thinking that might solve the issue.  Guess what?  IT’S STILL TOO BIG.  It will probably fit (at current growth rate) for the last four weeks of my pregnancy (maybe) and that is it.  And I don’t know about you, but I don’t casually spend $100 on something I can make work, but not really enjoy wearing, for all of a month.

I also bought some of the Hatch leggings.  And when I tell you that I put them on and laughed, I am not kidding.  I literally laughed at myself for being taken in by good influencer marketing. Because until that moment, I was snowed into believing that I would snap up some Hatch pieces and ride through pregnancy with a copy of Goop in one hand and a green juice in the other.  God help me, I think this delusion is hormone related.

The leggings are soft, yes, but also thick, while still revealing every lump and bump.  And the belly expansion folds under your bump for the last part of the pregnancy, so I imagine having that rolled up pile of jersey sitting lower than the top of your underwear will be really comfortable and flattering.

Also, if you need maternity leggings, the $25 leggings from Motherhood Maternity are better. And most of my readers just kept buying Lululemon Aligns in bigger sizes.

Lastly, the models on the Hatch site (at least some of whom seem to be pregnant in real life) are all the same body type: Size 0 with belly.  Which is a size that women come in, but not that many women.  Especially not pregnant ones.  So it might be in the best interests of a brand that bills itself as “being all about the Mamas of the world” to try fitting its clothes to a Mama who didn’t start her pregnancy tailoring small sizes down.

After ordering and returning almost $1,000 in Hatch merchandise (I told you, I was delusional), I’m just going to say it: f**k these people.

Hatch is selling an unrealistic version of pregnancy that exists only in pockets of Southern California and Upper Manhattan.  They want to make you believe that they can make pregnancy a beautiful, stylish experience, as long as you’re willing to pay the price.  Then, the box arrives, and the products have been so highly regarded by influencers, celebs, and that one stylish friend whose stroller costs more than your first car, that you assume the problem has to be you and you spiral.  Pregnancy is hard enough, I don’t need to have emotional encounters with my clothing.

When I mentioned to a friend that I hated Hatch, she explained the situation perfectly: Hatch is the brand you see promoted on social media before you get pregnant, that you look forward to wearing when you’re pregnant, but once pregnancy arrives, you realize it’s mostly good marketing.

But let’s pause with the rant for a minute to talk about Hatch’s Target diffusion line, The Nines. I bought this dress, a thick, ribbed jersey frock, and I really like it.  I like it so much, I bought a bigger size for later.  And I would have paid way more than $28 for it.  In fact, I liked it so much, a not-pregnant colleague bought and swears it’s one of the best pieces in her closet.

So as much as the designer line is a pantheon of lies and sponsored posts, I think some of the pieces in the Target line are worth your time.  I just bought this navy dress, and I’m excited to get it.  You won’t see me in overalls any time soon, but that’s just because flashing back to high school is not something I want to do at 40.

Bottom Line. Pregnant women are more vulnerable to marketing because pregnancy is a chaotic, discombobulating experience.  Your body changes daily.  You feel a lack of control that you have never experienced before.  And if a woman who looks like she stepped off the pages of Vogue tells you that she can solve your woes, you’re going to follow that Pied Piper, AmEx in hand, right off a cliff.

If you can get the Hatch pieces as hand me downs or try the Target line, you might have more luck.  But whatever you do, don’t fall for the belly oil scam.  It is just grapefruit-scented snake oil.

{this post contains affiliate links that may generate commission for the author}{as with all so it on social posts, I bought all of the reviewed pieces myself, with my own money}