Tuesday 23 October 2012

If you want to destroy my sweater...pull this thread as I walk away

My childhood friend KM has always had a really unique sense of style.  As a young child (5 or 6 years old), when she first began dressing herself in the morning to go to school she would come up with all of these wacky clothing combinations that she would insist on wearing, much to her mother's chagrin.  Her mother thought that she had come up with the ultimate solution to her daughter's strange combinations and purchased her a wardrobe of only red, white and blue clothing - figuring that no matter what it would sort of go together.  Unfortunately KM's new wardrobe often looked like a failed tribute to American patriotism or like New Pepsi had acquired a young girl as their new mascot.

This unique sense of style has continued through out KM's life.  She is a self proclaimed nerd with a penchant for reading* who has the letters spelling out, "BOOK WORM" tattooed across her knuckles, a look that rivals a prison librarian, yet she still loves over-sized knit sweaters and parkas.  KM is no hipster, she's been this way since we were 6.  She is a boho chic tattoo artist and many would argue that she was born that way.  A male friend of ours, who had a bit of a crush on KM, once tried to explain to her that he thought she dressed like the world's hottest grandmother.  Sadly this line didn't win KM's affection.

A few months ago a friend of ours told me how every day she needs to give her 2 year old daughter at least 2 clothing choices or there will be a massive freak out.  I didn't think that toddler girls cared about clothing, beyond the love of pretty twirly dresses.  I was wrong.

Last week Chris and I went out shopping at Once Upon a Child for trousers and long sleeved shirts for the minions.**  While we perused the 12 month old girl section we would hold up items we were particularly interested in or things we wanted to mock.  Chris held up a particularly offensive piece: a ridiculously bright fuchsia sweater with a tacky kitty cat on the front of it.  When Chris went to return it to the rack he found that it was stuck.  Two little hands reached up from her stroller and wouldn't let go of the awful sweater.  When Chris finally gave in and let go, Molly hugged the sweater tightly against her chest while we walked around the store, admiring it often.  Four dollars later we were the proud owners of the first piece of clothing our daughter ever fell in love with.   She giggles when you ask her if she wants to wear it.  The My Little Pony tattoos will have to wait until she's at least 7.

Note that the shoulders are sewn so the sleeves puff out.




*Including an obscene amount of Archie Comics.
**There is a black hole of hand me down clothing for 12-18 months and I don't know why...I think this is because this is prime crawling age and the children destroy, wear through or get dirt on everything.

No comments:

Post a Comment