Frocking Friday* the First – January 7 2010

My daughter, The Minx (aged 3) has a wardrobe full of frocks in vibrant, delicious colours.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when the Minx would only wear dresses. Now she dresses like a waif from a Joan Eardley painting.

I used to look at the Oscar Marzaroli photos of waifs and strays in the Gorbals of Glasgow and think (in my internal Glasgwegian voice):

It is a pure sin so it is that those poor wee weans had nothing to wear but hand me downs and scabby wellies

Now I realise that the weans in question had probably been provided with perfectly lovely clothes and simply went out of their way to wave the vicky fingers at their upwardly mobile parents.

There is a hipster family in these parts, the Miles family, twice featured by Sydney’s second hand Sartorialist, fashion designer/blogger/writer Fernando Frisoni. The first thing that occurred to me when I saw the Miles family, in the year that the Noisy Boy was born is probably no surprise namely – How on EARTH did they get their children to dress in anything approaching a hipster manner without bribery, corruption and copious corporal punishment?

I mean, my children are really very good at chucking a look together.  This week they are mostly wearing swimming costumes. The Noisy Boy is wearing his winter school uniform trousers despite the heat and humidity. When we get to the beach or swimming pool no doubt they will mostly be wearing long sleeved tee shirts and jeans. Or something similar. The problem is getting them to wear anything that I like the look of. This is something no doubt that parents everywhere think when they look at their weans.

So now I must rely on Frocking Fridays rather than the Minx to get my girlie kicks.

And so here it is: Frock the First by Seduce in silk. I was even wearing a slip. Go me.

Date of Wear:    Friday 7 January 2011

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*Read all about Frocking Friday here. Personally I would have preferred ‘Thank Frock It’s Friday” but I am a year late to this dress up party and no one loves a pushy unpunctual gatecrasher.

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