Image via Complex Original
I got a buncha kids. That’s a true statement, not some jerkoff comment from a dude that thinks he’s funny and says he has a bunch of kids to imply that he has banged so many women that he can’t even keep track of his possible offspring. No, I've got 3 with one on the way. (Sorry ladies, all the good ones are taken, etc.) I also happen to like owning and wearing nice clothing. (Summer of the "Cool Dad," etc.) Now you’re thinking, "This guy dresses his kids in straight internet fodder. I bet his kids can probably get a million reblogs on an off day and get the 20-year-old female population of Tumblr to reconsider their lifestyle choices." (Digital strumpetry, etc.) Well, you should quit while you're ahead because you're wrong. My kids dress like any other kid: decidedly mediocre.
I know we all dream about dressing our kids in Cuccinelli and Celine onesies, but the real truth is kids are going to look damn cute regardless. My boy wears a Hanes white tee and a pair of jeans from Target. From what I understand he has to fend off many a 3-year-old girl at the seesaw, which I can only assume is the child's equivalent of speed dating. I'm telling you, the little dude doesn’t need to try. At all. Also, let's be honest for a second, everything looks better in miniature. So, items that are super cliché, or completely horrible, on adults still look great on kids: UGGS, Crocs, shoes that light up when you kick your parents in knee, double monks (just kidding), etc.
And I'm of the opinion that kids don’t need to use clothing to “express themselves” like us adults. They don’t need to tell the world how quirky they are by wearing a vintage shift dress that Zoey Deschanel would own or, on the other end of the spectrum, how deep in New Jersey they live by wearing a bedazzled sweatshirt that would give Ed Hardy an epileptic seizure. They just need clothing to—wait for it—be clothed. Quite the novel idea, no?
And here's the bonus of being hands off when it comes to dressing your kids: now that they're in Wal-Mart chic, daddy can buy himself some designer gear to make up for whatever insecurities he's amassed since becoming a parent.
Dressing your kid to your taste is like dressing your dog to match your umbrella. It’s like dressing up your car with a beaded seat cushion and a dream catcher on the rear-view—it's terrible. Your kid is not your Barbie doll or your G.I. Joe with the "Kung-Fu Grip." Your kid is a living, breathing creature that will get mentally scarred and grow up hating you for PUTTING ME IN THAT STUPID MUSTARD YELLOW SWEATER FROM BENETTON TO MATCH THE BABY. I HATE YOU, MOM! ALL THE KIDS AT SCHOOL MADE FUN OF ME AND I GOT PICKED LAST IN DODGEBALL! (Not that they play dodgeball in any city or town within a 10 mile radius of Whole Foods aka everywhere, but you get the idea.) Point is, you don’t need to give your kids any more reasons to end up in therapy then they are already saddled with living in a world that is pretty much a perpetual after school special about cyberbullying or whatever coldblooded attack is now favored with the vampire sex set.
And here's the bonus of being hands off when it comes to dressing your kids: now that they're in Wal-Mart chic, daddy can buy himself some designer gear to make up for whatever insecurities he's amassed since becoming a parent. Nothing says I’m trying too hard like a cordovan diaper bag and a Miansai child leash. (We’ll discuss these at a later date, I’m sure.) When your kids grow up and want to spend all their disposable income on clothing to make themselves feel better, that’s their business. Right now, I’m looking out for #1, which, spoiler alert, is my wife. My household's economic trickle down finds me firmly in the number two slot.
If you ever see me walking with my kids and they're wearing unstructured blazers, or selvedge denim, I give you permission to hit up DYFS with the quickness.
Jay Arem is co-owner of The Knottery. Follow him on Twitter here.
