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Published in the WOW! supplement of the Evening Echo (image by
“No Dad, that doesn’t match,” the little one said as I picked out another cardigan to go with her summer dress. A soon to be five-year-old was letting me know that, when it comes to picking out girls’ clothes I didn’t have a clue.
“She’s right Dad, it doesn’t,” confirmed one of the twins. Two against one: I looked to the other twin for support; she shook her head ruefully: a unanimous condemnation.
Fashion has never been my strong suit. I take a purely utilitarian approach to my wardrobe. If it’s comfortable, functional and practical I’ll pretty much wear anything. My wife, thankfully, has a much more discerning eye, and makes sure that the comfortable, functional and practical clothes I wear are more-or-less acceptable to wear in public.
Women’s wardrobes – even little women’s wardrobes – are a complete mystery to me. A wardrobe, as far as I’m concerned, is a convenient place to hang your clothes. But to a woman a wardrobe is so much more than a collection of garments. It’s an extension of her being, a mirror of her personality, a window into her soul. It’s a symbiotic synergy that I don’t pretend to understand, and really don’t want to. But I have three daughters, so inevitably I get caught up in the occasional clothes-related issue.