I am old enough to remember a time when baby clothing was somewhat boring--you know, if fell into one of two camps: either completely utilitarian or over-the-top froufrou. But around the time First Child was born, retailers finally were beginning to pick up on the notion that parents might want to dress their young'uns a bit like themselves--and apparently marketers got the seriously bright idea that Gen-X moms would feel the need to relive, or rather reinvent, their own childhoods via their children's clothing (if you're curious about this phenomenon, head over here for a great article by Susan Gregory Thomas on Gen-X-targeted marketing ploys). Eh voila: parents can find baby onesies with pics of Mr. Bubble or the Ramones.
But here's what's strange to me. Amidst the mounds of ironic-cool-funky-hip stuff in which our unsuspecting babies can be swathed, older kids are getting left out. Seriously--it's pretty silly when a nine-year-old girl has to look longingly at her toddler sister's flower-adorned shoes and octopus-print hoodie. I mean, witness, for example, the cool Asian style for babies and young children at Tea and at Ginger and Scallion. Just don't bother looking if you have a child over the age of six.
Young girls who want to look like Britney or Beyonce are all set, let me tell you--plenty of retailers offer that whole "dress your kids like you if you're a porn star" look. But those older kids who'd like to rock a dragon screen-printed tee like their mom's, like their dad's, or like their baby brother's or sister's, are pretty much out of luck. Why is that? I honestly don't understand it. First Child has even noticed it. She's eleven, and she knows that most of the cool clothing and shoes we see in Asia or back in the States are not going to fit--they're either a couple of sizes too small or several sizes too big. Second child, at eight, is also caught in this gap, having finally grown out of Size 6; he just doesn't notice as much.
But wait--stop the press! I've just, as in a few minutes ago, located a fabulous new source, with thanks again to Babble: it's called Reckon Worldwide! Ha! Now my kids (up to size 12--thank you, American Apparel!) can sport t-shirts with the screen-printed mugs of the likes of Larry David, Emily Dickinson, John Coltrane, or Faye Dunaway. It's a motherlode, let me tell you, of artistic greatness, grouped by category (film and TV, comedy, literature and art, philosophy, and music). That's what I get for complaining: it'll take me till at least the middle of next week to get through all the stuff on this site. Guess there's something available for hipster 'tweens after all.