A Sense of Fashion

The holidays make me long for a girl.  It’s all those adorable holiday dresses.  Those dresses with cute shoes and cuter tights.  With adorable purses.  I must look at them with too many sighs because two weeks ago, Tornado E said, “Mommy, I think you would look good in that one; get it.”  Thanks, baby.  The last time I wore girl’s clothes, you’re weren’t even a thought in my head and I had a adorably, cute flat stomach to show off.  Sigh.

Where was I?  Right.  Fashion.

But then I have to look at Tornado E.  Who has a pair of pajama pants with skulls and cross-bones and red x’s all over them, and because the pants came as a gift without the shirt, he has declared them Fine To Wear In Public.  Granted, he would give his underwear the same title if I let them.  Tornado E wore those pants with a blue shirt with a pirate skull on it with a Denver Broncos vs San Francisco 49ers commemorative scarf as his outfit to school.  Today it was those pair of pants with his skeleton shirt (the kind with glow in the dark rib care and spine) with a cheap spiky blue wig from a LA Dodgers game.  If I didn’t have a rule about always having to wear tennis shoes to school, he would have worn his fireman boots or his brand new cowboy boots.

The kid is so much fun.  As long as he’s dressed for the weather, I give him free rein.

When it comes to special occasions, Tornado E will not be topped.  He’s a little upset with me for not buying him more good shoes, but what’s the point when they’re only for church?  Last year he picked out a shirt and tie combo because he wanted to wear a tie tack.  This year, I bought him a blue shirt and khaki pants, which at first he disapproved.  “Mommy, it’s too plain.”  The disgust was dripping from the words.  But a few days later he noticed the embroidered C and laurels on the right breast pocket.  He was sold.

The best part is for Christmas, he decided to paint his nails.  The right hand was green.  The left hand was red.  He had to paint the red.

So who needs a girl?

Personal Style

I’m pretty laid back when it comes to what Tornado E wants to wear.  Blame it on having school uniforms most my school career.  Blame it on the “dress code” my parents enforced while I was in high school.  Blame it on the fact I looked up to Melissa Joan Hart from Clarissa Explains It All.  Blame it on the fact I hung out with drama students my teenage years, including a boy who believed wearing a kilt once in a while was manly.  (Ok, that might also be responsible for me enjoying a good looking guy in a kilt, but moving on.)  Blame it on the fact I felt perfectly fine walking around a college campus with fairy wings.

I was sure I could handle anything Tornado E threw at me.  You want to be a witch for Halloween?  No problem.  You want to wear your cape to Target?  Let me pull it out.  Striped polo shirt paired off with camo shorts with his boots?  Fine.  You want to wear your doctor scrubs?  Okey-dokey.  You’re wearing your Mickey ears with one ear missing because you’re a super hero?  Sure.  Chargers jersey, brown-floral shorts, cowboy hat, and orange crocs?  All right.

I was looking forward to a little girl playing soccer in a princess dress, so of course I’m prepared for Tornado E’s dressing creativity.   I love his creativity.  I took pictures for a week of his outfits before school started because I was worried what socialization would do to his style.  I know when people look at him they know he dressed himself.  Picking out his clothes is the only reason Tornado E gets dressed.  The kid would be a nudist if he could.  But like his Mommy, he loves color, so he loves to wear his own style of clothing.  And I could dig it.

But now he wants to wear his shirt and shorts backwards.

What?!  Are you kidding me?  No.  Absolutely not.  No way.  Do you want to look certifiable?  Do I want to look certifiable?  Some lines just have to be drawn.  Like no sandals in the winter.  Like no jeans in the hot, hot desert summer.  Like all clothes have to be facing the correct way.

A year ago I was wrestling to put clothes on him, and now I’m wrestling to put the clothes right on him.

I tried reverse psychology.  I let him wear it around the house.  I forbade it.  I chose clothes for him as a punishment.  I’m inches from bribery.

So any other suggestions?

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