Wee FashionPosted: December 12, 2012
One of the fun things about being responsible for a small person is that you get to dress him. It’s even more fun than dressing yourself because it’s a good thing if an outfit makes him look fat. And his clothes are a lot cheaper.
I’m not one of those crazy people who spends a lot of money on children’s clothing, and I think Das Big Boy’s wardrobe is probably smaller than most kids’, but it’s highlighted by a few fun and spunky items. We’ve also lucked into things like family friends in Europe who send us outfits that you can’t get here.
Herr Husband makes fun of me because I get really fussy about ridiculous things like Das Big Boy’s socks matching his outfits. Herr Husband is actually quite sweet about putting in an effort to ensure that my standards are upheld despite my inability to retrieve clothes for Das Big Boy or dress him. Still, we now have three different adults tasked with doing and putting away laundry in our house and with dressing Das Big Boy. So sometimes, one of his cute outfits can’t be found. He went to school in a sweatsuit last week–a totally appropriate outfit for gymnastics class, or for a normal mother to take her two year old to playgroup, but it was hard for me (and it’s a cute little red sweatsuit from Spain). This is how crazy I am. But I don’t believe in traipsing around in sweats (you know, except for now when yoga pants, hoodies, and footies comprise my wardrobe). So I don’t want Das Big Boy to do so either.
My unsolicited toddler fashion pointers: don’t be afraid to dress babies and toddlers like small adults. It’s awesome. Consignment stores, like Cherry Picked, have unusual items, often at prices that resemble Target’s. And don’t be afraid to buy mostly low-end items and spike them with a few unusual pieces. My wardrobe functions the same way. My clothes are a mix of Target items and boutiquey finds.
Ok, right now my clothes are all elastic-waisted. Not sure why you’d take fashion advice from me, even for your toddler.
Plus, I have a theory that once I have two children, I’ll feel good about myself if all three of us manage to leave the house without wearing a breastmilk puddle, poop smear, or vomit stain. Judging by how Das Big Boy and I did in our first few months, I’m not sure I’ll be hitting that mark all that often. I distinctly remember one of Herr Husband’s and my first nights out with friends after Das Big Boy came home from the NICU. “I hope they don’t get close enough to smell the puke in my hair,” I told Herr Husband. They did.