what baby clothes have taught me about the French Method and minimalism

Minimalism is not something usually applied to kid's clothing. If anything, the arrival of a newborn usually comes with an avalanche of hand-me-downs and gifted clothing. When the girl was born, I ended up with three Hefty trash bags of clothes that went straight to the donation center, for reasons of sizing or seasonal appropriateness or character placement. That was three bags in excess of the clothes she could wear. Needless to say, austerity was not a word to describe the situation. People just love picking up a cute onesie or two, especially if the baby happens to be a girl.

And then there are very good reasons why minimalism isn't practical with a baby. Spit ups, spills, blowouts, and just the general dampness of these tiny human beings make it necessary to change clothes once or twice a day. Some days, I've had to change outfits a few times even before noon.

But while it isn't really feasible to limit the number of items too strenuously, I have found it satisfying to apply the French method in two ways: 1) to buy a few high-quality items that add punch to an otherwise cheap wardrobe 2) to find a functional uniform.

spend a lot on a few high-rotation items, and spend little on what's adequate
Most of the kids' wardrobes are thrifted or gifted, and I have aimed to not get overly invested in what the kids wear. Sure, there are so many cute things for kids, and in another situation, another life, I probably would have indulged in searching for them, but in hindsight I'm rather glad I didn't get caught up in that.

But one or two super-cute Boden tees, some good See Kai Run shoes with the flexible soles, and warm long underwear have absolutely been worthwhile. These things have gotten a lot of wear. The wool undershirts and long johns get worn every day in the winter, and it's worth the peace of mind of knowing that they're dry and comfortable. The tees and shoes have been sound purchases just from the viewpoint of cost per wear. And really, just one adorable piece is enough to make the whole outfit, and it supplies all the friendly strangers something to say about the baby.

find a functional uniform
When you're in charge of wrangling a squirmy potato in and out of their clothes several times a day, you quickly come to see the advantage of streamlining the whole process. For each child, I settled upon a general uniform and then duplicated those pieces so that getting them dressed became a simpler matter. Right now for the baby, that's a wool shirt and long underwear from Finland (the hilariously named "nappy pants"), a long-sleeve onesie, a sweater or sweatshirt over top, and some comfortable jersey pant.

For both, the bodysuits came from Boden (stripes for one, stars for the other) and Hanna Andersson. Conveniently, baby things often come in multiples, so that lends itself to forming uniforms. I also bought a set of soft play pants from Baby Gap, which they both currently wear because she is so small and he is so huge.

It took some trial and error to figure out what works best for their particular season, body shape, and developmental stage. While I loved overalls on the girl, for example, they proved to be cumbersome for my wide-set and inert boy. But once I figured out what seemed to work, I set about getting rid of the majority of the pieces that didn't.

applying these ideas to big people clothes
It's so much easier to edit a child's wardrobe. If something doesn't work, wait a few months and soon enough they'll outgrow it, making the task of chucking an item easier emotionally. And then you know not to buy that same mistake again. But I have to admit that I'm still hanging on to clothes that I know don't work for me, just out of some idea that maybe some day soon, they might. And these are items that are ill fitting not just in terms of size, but also lifestyle, age . . . my developmental stage, if you will.

So editing my closet is still a wash, a work in progress if I'm feeling charitable. But applying the idea of buying a few higher-quality items to elevate a humdrum workable wardrobe--well, that seems easier done. Due to simply the current inertia of my wardrobe, anything I buy has the feeling of being a special piece.

As for finding a functional uniform, perhaps that is something I can work out on the pages of this blog over time. I would like to streamline the process of getting dressed, since I don't have a lot of time for self care but would appreciate not falling into the rut of being "mom," that harried woman with no time for self care. I honestly don't care that much about my appearance these days, but I feel like maybe I shouldn't give up that battle just yet.

{this moment}

{this moment} A Friday (oops!) ritual started by Soulemama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

the days are long, but the years are short

So you'll never experience such an onslaught of advice and commiseration as you will when you become a parent. It's like being inducted into a secret cabal that I never knew existed. I can't go anywhere now without being stopped by someone--usually an older woman whose children are past the childhood stage--who offers some piece of well-worn advice and then wistfully talks about when their kids were that age. The most common bit of wisdom? "They grow up so fast." It's nothing new or earthshattering, but it contains the poignancy of being witness to something both so mundane and so awe-inspiring.

I particularly like the slightly expanded version of this: The days are long, but the years are short. And now that M is definitely a toddler, not a baby, I can confirm that it's true. She has grown and changed so quickly. Even as I tumble into bed exhausted at the end of every day, ready for it to be over, I can't believe that those infant days are done.

I've been following a new blog that features the portraits of a group of kids, taken by their photographer parents, week by week. It's inspired me to try that, too. I already find myself grabbing my camera every day to try to document some funny occurrence, and I'm hoping that by formalizing it I can overcome my problem with constancy. This photo is of M several weeks ago, playing with my lenscap in the morning.

Baby clothes

We were given so many new and hand-me-down baby clothes that it felt too extravagant to purchase any more. It was literally crates of clothes, so many that some things were probably worn only once. It was exactly opposite of what I had planned to do, which was pick out a few things I loved on her, wash, and rotate. But with so many clothes, and so many other adjustments needed to bring a baby into the house, I refrained from buying M anything but a handful of clothes to get her through the cold weather.

Well, like everything dealing with parenting, I have found that in some ways I was right and in other ways I was wrong. On the one hand, it turned out to be useful to have quantity in the first few weeks because babies are so messy, and we were too overwhelmed to go down to the laundromat. In the past three months I have been outfitting her in whatever random stuff we had been given. She sort of looked like Punky Brewster some days, in ill-fitting mismatched clothes, some of which had slogans like "I love shopping with mommy." She was much pinker than I would have cared for, but still, I dressed her in these clothes because they were practical and they were gifts. It didn't make sense to run out and buy a bunch of redundant clothing.

But I have found--now that we're past the initial newborn stage--that she doesn't need that many clothes, and it's nice to buy at least a few things that I love for her. I wonder why I even denied myself  this pleasure when she'll be little only once. But it all worked out because at least now I know what she needs (a few long sleeve onesies, footie sleepers, and separates; and a snug pair of pj's)

And in the end, most of her clothes will join that endless merry-go-round of used infant clothing: passed on to consignment shops or thrift stores, sold in garage sales, or given to the next pregnant lady from a friend's cousin's neighbor.

Winter sales

Up at 3:30 A.M., typing with one hand while the baby sleeps on the other arm. She was bothered by something and could not be appeased by half-awake consoling. And I have a cold and need to sip some chamomile tea with honey to soothe my throat.

I keep wanting to make a proper post, with pics and everything, but it's not happening. So I'll just say that I was relatively disciplined during the sales. I was looking to replace a few items that had gotten worn out, to round out a few favored kinds of garments, and to outfit myself properly for the winter. I set as my target A.P.C. because they're good for long-lasting basics--I have a black wool sweater from them that has served me well for 3 or 4 winters or so. And their stuff routinely goes on sale at many outlets. I had a good chance of getting what I needed, especially since I wanted to limit my browsing so as to limit temptation. Over the past few months I only picked up a few vintage plaid shirts at thrift stores, and I saved my pennies for these wardrobe-building acquisitions during the sale season.

The final count: oxford button down, burgundy wool sweater, suede wallet, and boiled wool slippers (this last from Halflinger to replaces ones that had sprung a hole in the heel). All at least 50% off, all expected to last me many, many years.

I'd feel pretty self-congratulatory but that my end-of-summer purchases I posted about months ago ended up being only half successful. I need to report on the disappointing purchases as well to give an accurate portrait of these goings-on (perhaps as a check for blog-induced spending fever?), but that's for another sleepless night.

Luggage packing

I always overpack when I travel. Not that I bring suitcases of stuff (nowadays, just the carry-on), but I always end up with items that never get worn once. So this time, when I went to visit family, I brought just a couple thin, holey undershirts (I really should replace them, but they're so comfortable and still functional) both in long and short sleeve, a patterned tunic, cropped yoga pants, a vintage plaid shirt, and the outfit I was going to wear on the plane. As it turned out, I still didn't wear everything I brought, but only because I underpacked. It was so warm in Texas. I needed to bring a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve shirt that could be worn on its own. Argh!

M's stuff took up more room. She doesn't mind being too warm, but she hates being too cold. So I brought some fleece onesies and zip-ups. She as well didn't wear everything I brought, but that was because I was desperately trying to get some use out of the many temperate-weather hand-me-down clothes she was given on this trip. Back at home, these things won't be worn much, if at all.

So still trying to figure out the perfect formula for suitcase packing. Not too much, not too little.