If you said, "Yaaaaaassssss, sister, testify, it is straight traumatizing, almost as bad as birthin' that baby!" then you know I was in zero rush to get V in the car after a big eggslut of a breakfast.
(Background: When we turned Vivian's car seat forward facing, she developed motion sickness. It only lasted a few weeks but good lord, I live in fear of defcon 5 vomit in every nook and cranny of her person, her car seat and my back seat again.)
Instead of our planned meteorite exhibit (lord help us, she's a space camp nerd), I convinced Ms. VV that we could find an outfit for her to match her new Boo doll (from Monsters Inc. for the Pixar uninitiated). And she agreed because fashion, duh.
As soon as she saw the new Beverly Center lounges, she was in heaven. "Let's just hang here, mama!" I let her roll around on everything as if she was rolling at a 90s rave. Again, it's lovely, Bev Cen, but really all the disruption for this?
Eventually we moved on but were stopped dead in our tracks by the siren call of Dolce & Gabbana.
The mixed prints!
Vivian begged to go in the store. Who is this kid??? MY kid, that's who. It must be in our Italian blood, man, this love of the playful, the ornate, the overtly feminine.
But I wasn't in the mood to paw beautiful things that remind me of a former life; one when I had fabulous occasion to wear fabulous things. Plus the only thing worse than your child throwing up in your car, would be your child farting in Dolce & Gabbana. And I had a sense she was itching to let one rip after all that OJ at eggslut.
Crestfallen, she asked what store we could go in. I made her read me the name on the window: H&M. It's become a go-to for Vivian's closet, especially summer dresses and winter sweaters. Lately, I will occasionally score a $10 sweatshirt there that makes me feel athleisure chic. Plus, I won't mind if it gets ruined with slime or paint or general kid-ness. Such is my sartorial life now. Sigh.
I was struck with how much color was in store post-holidays. Also bold winter florals galore. Very D&G.
A dash of Diane Von Furstenberg
Crossed with Gucci garish.
The darker florals were probably the most work wearable.
I don't normally photograph clothing in stores anymore.
So Vivian was confused and started jumping into shots.
Ah to be narcissistically young again.
Suddenly, we were pointing out our favorite pieces to each other - she is all about "LOOK AT ME COLOR" - and having the cutest time browsing, like real girlfriends, not master (her) and servant (me). Yay for 3.5!!!
I found her this Monster's Inc coat. Tres Sully.
She spotted the ideal Jack Skellington pants. "We HAVE to tell, Uncle Jason!" That's Sable Crow who loves The Nightmare Before Christmas just like her, btw.
We both squealed when we saw this coat. Elmo realness, anyone???
But my favorite prints were these Valentine's Day dreams.
I love the idea of pajama dressing...since 2011, remember??
It never quite works on me (too thick waisted? too short? too not white?). But boy do I fantasize about being a turbaned mom that DGAF and looks bedroom chic at the library, Target and dance class.
Ideally with THOSE Gucci slides
And a Clare V pouch (Side note: How is it that some toddler mothers don't need to carry huge bags? Why am I the only sherpa whose purse has turned into a dumpster full of shit for my kid?)
Headed over to the kids section to stave off the impulse pajama buy I felt brewing.
Not as many florals as I'd expected but some real cuties
Not that she needs clothes right now. So I focused on accessories. Saw this adorable V day headband. Not five minutes later, Vivian spotted it and said, "I need this AND I want it." Me: I'm so proud of you.
This child is literally me. She looks exactly like I me at that age (minus Daddy's big lips). We have the same taste in food and fashion. She wears cool clothes with such ease. She knows exactly what she likes. She is hilarious.
I let her go cray in the sale section cuz HER FACE. Also she is chic on a budget.
Faux fur snood: $3
Pom pom clips: $.50
The handbag she chose was giving me Cult Gaia vibes. Obsessed. Want. Don't need. But need.
Clearly Vivian is the heir apparent to Da Fashionista title. Maybe some V-logging until she learns to type? Will definitely need this little number.