This is not the baby sitter’s club. What?
This week in sure-fire man repelling tactics that may rest unbeknownst to the naked eye: emulating primitive style cues, exhausting them. People often ask how I would describe my personal style and on the rare occasion I am not feeling like a douche nut, saying something ambiguous like “it’s personal” or taking the former sentiment further and just saying “ambiguous,” I do believe I have been able to quite clearly assess my aesthetic and that is: little boy meets little girl–this is often followed by, and then Hell’s Angel motorcyclist kidnaps them. For the sake of today though, let’s just stop at little girl.
All too often, I’ve learned my style is only reverting back to an early phase in my life when yes, I was deeply interested in toddler dressing, see tent dresses and Peter Pan collars but ultimately also couldn’t allow it to register as cool because I was, you know, a toddler. And really now, what’s worse than age appropriate dressing other than illness and bombs, etc? Not very much.
So I decided for MR-sake to kick it back to the playground where I grew up running through sprinklers and staying the fuck away from monkey bars. I’m like Benjamin Button growing down only my facial features are not getting fresher. There is a clear sign at the entry of this park that states, “no adults unaccompanied by children permitted to enter park grounds.” It was pretty bad-ass when we entered anyway. They’ll never know I’m actually not six, is what I argued.
Once we were in, magic was had. Puffy and me–see, that’s Puffy played and played (and played…)
Until we were asked to leave. Ultimately, you see, the point of this anecdote and the post at large is to remind you that short of a prospect that suggests you may get kicked out of the very parks that raised you, I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking on the rare, or I don’t know, maybe really frequent, occasion you come by baby clothes, and that is: I wish that came in my size. Embrace it and find it and infant wear proud. Layered tents are awesome, Peter Pan collars are for chic dudes who don’t want to grow up and chilling with your stuffed animal while in your mid-twenties is not weird. In fact, I think it may turn out to procure one big fat F/W 2013 runway trend. Just my speculation though. Live life in the stroller lane, happy Monday.
Lauren Moffatt shirt and shorts, Michael Kors platforms, from Net-a-Porter where prices are dropping like freakin’ flies, MR. Dannijo necklace, Puffy my childhood friend–remember his last cameo? And when he stole my coffee? Fancy dude. All photos by Naomi Shon.