Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Kickee Pants AKA Kicky Pants: FAIL

How lovely. Multiple shades of blue that compliment but don't match. Comfy snaps instead of a zipper. And footed. Couldn't WAIT to get them. I ordered in the colors 'Pond' and 'Twighlight.'

FAIL! The fabric is some kind of bamboo stretchy blend that reminds me of the tragic tube dresses I wore at age 19 with a pair of boots I stole from the set of the hit film "Pretty Woman."  It's so stretchy that I unknowingly twisted it and put the garment's left leg on a twin's right leg and vice versa. I kept trying to snap it and it just seemed… wrong. It seriously took me 7-10 minutes before I realized my mistake. Thank god the other person present to watch me fumble like a complete idiot was the other twin who still seems to think I'm great.

Oh, and it and it pilled on the first wash. No way it would have persevered through even a week of crawling. Thumbs down.

In pursuit of footie.

I've got to face reality. It's staring me in the face. Actually, it's sleeping soundly in its bedroom but it will awaken in the next hour and torture me all night long. And if it doesn't, then the other it will. Because there are two. Yes, two. In the meantime, I am feeling motivated to share what I believe is reasonable feedback for the rest of the clothing-conscious, child-bearing world.

Look I appreciate that some of you have the time to secure multiple garments of clothing to one infant, but I do not. Other things I don't have time for:

1. Socks: Seriously? They don't stay on. Yes, I know they're cute. They don't stay on. And I've got four to keep track of.

2. Garments intended to pull over a head. I read on one of's weekly "your baby is now XX weeks old" emails that one of the things my baby (um, babies, thank you) should be doing by 8 weeks ago is holding his (their, people, their) arm(s) over his (their) head/s when I dress him (them). You know what I mean? If you were an infant version of a white red-headed sumo wrestler with a genetic clone and you were trying to help me out when I was dressing you, you'd hold up your arms over your head so I could slip arm holes easily onto each of your shoulders. Unless you were one of my sons in which case you would scream bloody murder when I brought a garment, any freaking garment, near you. Anyway, slipping a garment over my child's head? Are you kidding? How about a garment that secures in front by zipper or, better yet, snaps. Who the hell wants to sleep on his belly with a wretched stiff zipper poking against his bare flesh?

3. Shoes. My children don't walk. They're 8 months old. And even if Giuseppe Zanotti made children's shoes (he doesn't), mine would grow out of them too quickly to make it worth it.

4. Bottoms without crotch snaps. Not sure about the singleton-rearing population but in my world, we've started eating solids. In fact, "solid" is now a common word in my house and I'm not just talking about food. Never in my fashion past did I contemplate a reality in which I would prepare a particular foodstuff and simultaneously shudder at what it was going to smell like coming out. It's a whole new world. And this world does not tolerate bottoms without crotch snaps. Do you know how many bowments I had to smell on Tuesday of last week? 10. Yes, 10. That's 5 bowments per red-headed sumo wrestler.

5. Layers. See, screaming bloody murder when presented with a singular garment, supra.

So anyway, I am on a quest and that quest is for a wearable, durable, comfortable footie that comes in 12+ month sizing, does not have some tragic graphic on the front and preferably comes in multiple shade of some masculine color so that my twins' clothing might compliment, but not match.

I've done the research and I'll begin posting regularly with my findings.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Why, God, why?!

Years ago, when I didn’t have a full time job and a husband and 7 month old twins and I did have free time, I used to write a thing or two from time to time about designer jeans and pretty clothing and designers I liked and so forth. Someone whom Anna Wintour has never heard of might even have said that I wrote about fashion. At the time I was writing those things, I might have agreed. Now I’m not so sure.

As the days pass, and as the trends about which I used to bitterly complain fester on (and on, and on), I am beginning to believe that I am but a voiceless peasant in some kind of dark, hopeless dictatorship. The misguided masses bow to the cruel and ignorant tyrant and I am but a tiny, quiet minion, forging on through the bloodshed.

So mea culpa. I am now officially in the minority. And I get that what's attractive is subjective. But still, I just can’t help but ask. Who in his fucking right mind thinks that this is attractive? 

Tonight I sat through yet another disappointing episode of Project Runway. And again, the judges elected to eliminate a contestant that I’d have kept—and for a garment I liked. But tonight I arrived at a conclusion that begged some indignant response on my part so here goes.

What the fuck is wrong with you people? Doesn’t anyone care about what’s attractive any more? Are we so engulfed by the excitement of new that we’ve abandoned what’s pretty? Shouldn’t fashion be pretty. And WHEN FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST will our current runways finally finish vomiting 1985’s sour bile?