fancy little peanuts.
Okay, I get it. You’ve got a kid, and it’s the cutest kid in the whole wide world. It’s Gerber-worthy, you say, perfect for Times Square billboards and Baby GAP ads. I know, there’s a lot of pressure to dress a Baby GAP kid up in a fashion suitable to its cuteness. You wouldn’t want to dress up Shirley Temple in a burlap sack, would you? No! Of course not!
Now that all of my friends are having children, I understand the knee-jerk desire to blow the bank on babies. The little knit sweaters, the teeny tiny boat shoes they’ll never actually walk in, the chambray button-ups that match daddy’s chambray button-up – it’s all too… perfect. And for any woman who grew up dressing Barbie dolls as a little girl, your new kid offers you all the sartorial creativity of those long lost days. Plus, it looks like you, loves you unconditionally, and its skin is way, way nicer than rubberized plastic.
As one might expect, said friends and said babies look, well, like a family. The beachy parents have striped-wearing nautical babies. The enviro-friendly parents have babies in naturally dyed organic fibers. Each parental unit has taken their “look” and miniaturized it — though the cost certainly does not decrease proportionately. Your kid’s Kenzo sweater might use a quarter of the yardage of your own, but it’s certainly not a quarter of the cost. In my estimation, these well-dressed, pretty little babies are costing a pretty little penny.
As an experiment, I went to Barneys.com (because my future unborn baby will be a fancy baby), and put together a couple epic outfits. Let’s see… there’s the Ovale Bodysuit ($105), or their knitted dungarees ($114). Siaomimis Bat Top is looking pretty good for Halloween ($52). An Agua Raglan Sleeve Sweater ($84) with a pair of Emile et Ida Brushed Slim Fit Pants ($106) could be a killer combo. This imaginary kid is costing me an arm and a leg, and I only have enough for two days of clean clothes, barring some easily foreseen catastrophe like vomiting or diapers whose bounty runneth over. That’s $461 plus tax right there for what is essentially disposable clothing, and I haven’t even gotten to shoes yet.
Me and my unborn child are going to have to strongly reconsider the burlap sack option.
