my kid’s ugly clothes
When I was pregnant with my first, I self-righteously informed Tom that I considered dressing to be a form of self-expression, and that I’d let my kid dress however he wanted, in order to help foster a sense of self-confidence. Of course, when I said that, I had no idea that my kid would have bad taste.
That’s right, I’m judging my own kid for his lack of fashion sense. I guess I assumed that, at worst, my kid would put together some colorful yet whimsical outfits, kind of like the one below, from two years ago. Crocs + socks aside, I really wish I had this outfit in my size even though the shirt features a cat and I hate cats. The ‘stache is all Finn, because he is physically incapable of drinking an Izze without sucking his upper lip into the bottle and forming a moustache made of broken capillaries. The Izze ‘stache always lasts way longer than you think it will, is impossible to cover up with concealer, and usually makes an appearance right before Picture Day.
Anyway, I was prepared for crazy kid color. What I was not prepared for was a five-year old who gravitates towards neutrals. Left to his own devices, Finn now prefers monochromatic outfits in dung brown or dark gray, which usually leaves him looking like the world’s smallest UPS delivery person.
fashion weeps
My hatred for the outfit above is particularly intense. Finn’s worn that shirt maybe 300 times, and only twice has he NOT worn it backwards. As for the pants, I’d burn them if I thought Old Navy Performance Fleece was a material capable of being burned. I don’t know what it’s made out of, but I’m certain that the only things that will survive the coming apocalypse are Old Navy Performance Fleece and cockroaches.
Even more paining to me than his penchant for drab neutrals is the fact that Finn has no natural sense of proportion. He loves baggy sweatshirts and jerseys that are unflattering to his figure. While he loves to go big on top, he prefers to go two sizes too small on bottom.
thanks dad for the dart gun--a solid montessori purchase
I’m hoping that he didn’t pick up the cropped pants from me, because if he did, his execution is really shoddy. Surely, if I’ve taught him anything in life, it is that you never wear cropped pants with tube socks. The outfit above is also a good example of Finn’s misplaced focus on “matching.” To Finn’s way of thinking, why wear a blue shirt, when you can wear a blue shirt with blue pants and blue shoes? Why indeed. When he first came downstairs in this outfit, I crammed my fist into my mouth and bit down on my knuckles to stifle the scream of pure terror.
If you are wondering why I care what my kid’s clothes look like, join the club. I don’t know why I care. Probably it’s because kids, like handbags, have become an extension of one’s personal style. I have stylish friends with kids so well-dressed that I want to date them. But let’s be real, most kids look pretty cute no matter what they are wearing. And no matter how much my kid’s clothes bug me, I don’t want to end up being the mom who’s picking out clothes for her 17-year old. So here’s me, letting Finn be Finn, and trying to take Yoona out of the equation.
yoonanimous 