I am not a fashionista, by any means. In a former life, when I was in the sales field, I looked sharp, but I never went gung-ho over designers or spent a ton of money on clothes. I had some awesome pieces that were perfect for my life as a business woman, but I didn’t go overboard. I love an episode of Project Runway just like the next person, but my current “style” involves something I can put on pretty quickly, wear to a playground or the store, and won’t crumple under the undue stress of chasing a preschooler all day.
I like my t-shirts and jean shorts.
This isn’t the runway.
This isn’t a fashion show.
Most of my clothes come from a palette that matches and/or compliments other things in my wardrobe. And, Claire has worn clothes that have matched, pretty much every day of her life. The secret to that is that most everything in her wardrobe goes with most everything else, too. For the most part. It’s always been fun for me to put together her outfits. And, it’s never been a problem before. I give her options (so she has the semblance of control), and off we go on our merry little way.
Yet, somehow…today, she beat me to the punch. She found two pieces that are so non-matching that it hurt my delicate sensibilities.
In the grand scheme of things, I don’t care what she wears, but this outfit was ridiculous. I nearly had a nervous breakdown. We have places to go! People will see you! People will see me!
Who cares what she wears? She’s TWO (and a half). Still, I tried to convince her that the floral top (which is very beautiful) and her orange plaid shorts (which are also very beautiful) do NOT go together. As I tugged on one sleeve (Give it to me! Wear this other one!) and she tugged on the other (No! It’s mine! I wanna wear this shirt!), I felt myself losing control and my grip on reality.
As her screams got louder, I realized that this is one of those battles that really doesn’t matter. I could let her win this one and be ahead in the end. The floral top is mostly white, and unless someone is close enough to pay attention, they won’t notice that it doesn’t go with her shorts. Her shorts are really loud, and will probably draw the most attention anyway. *I* notice these things, but my opinion on the matter died a few minutes ago. If I’m lucky, we won’t cause any scenes anyway…so this is probably a moot point.
So, I waited for a lull in the tugging, and I let go. I let go of the shirt, and I let go of all my previous notions of what matches and what goes together.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth…my smile and tone totally fake. “You can wear that one with those shorts.”
“And, I wanna do it MYSELF,” she shouted at me as I turned to leave.
“Great!” I said. And I left the room.
When she had her clothes on, she came out to the kitchen to show me. I cringed when I saw the outfit, but you know what? Her beaming face was worth ignoring the screams in my head.
“Look how pretty this is!” she said. “And, I got dressed all by myself!”
“Yes, you did! I’m so proud of you!”
And, I was.
And, you know what? When we were out and about today, no one laughed and pointed. We had a couple ladies comment on how well-behaved Claire was, and neither of them even mentioned the fact that her shirt didn’t match her shorts.
Either they weren’t paying attention, or it really doesn’t matter. 
Or maybe florals and plaids are all the rage, and I just haven’t gotten the memo yet. 
sent to your Email
