It may sound odd, but some of my greatest style lessons and inspiration have come from a kid who routinely wears dinosaurs pajamas to the grocery store. Here are some things he has taught me.
Other People? What Other People?
Worrying about what other people think of my wardrobe choices is a carry-over from those anxiety-riddled teenage years. My 3-year-old, however, is completely unaware that other people even factor into the equation. He doesn’t notice or care when the old women at the farmer’s market raise an eyebrow at the fact that he’s wearing swim shorts over long-johns or that he is currently rocking a mohawk. When someone compliments him on his outfit or hair he says, “I know.” Because, duh. He’s wearing it so it must be fabulous.
His confidence has helped me find a little bit more of my own. Who cares what others think?
Wear What You Like. For the Second Time This Week.
My son has a tee that says, “I still live with my parents” on the front and it is his absolute favorite thing to wear. Letters are still new and exciting to him and he calls it his “ABC shirt.” The fact that he can’t read the text makes no difference to him! That shirt is the reason why I do his laundry at least twice a week. He’s got enough clothing to carry him through longer, but he wants to wear his ABC shirt. Who am I to keep him from wearing something that makes him feel so good?
I feel like I tend to save my “good” stuff for special outings. Now I wear it whenever I want then wear it AGAIN when an occasion arises. Life’s too short to not wear your favorite stuff as often as you’d like. Who cares if your preschool teacher has already seen you in it twice this week?
Matching is Overrated
Little kids were eschewing matchy outfits LONG before us adults caught on.
My kid wears what he likes. He puts things together based on how they feel, not necessarily how they look. If it feels right, he wears it.
Following this philosophy has led to some of my favorite outfits. My husband might think that I look a little crazy (he has stopped commenting on it, at least), but I feel like a million bucks. And isn’t that what really matters?