If you read my last post (well who didn’t?) you’ll know that one of my most favouritist parts of this time of year is the clothing. There’s nothing I like more than hunkering down and layering up until March. But this year I can’t seem to shake the feeling that the Child’s clothes are getting a little bit more awesome than mine so I’ve decided it’s time to pit our wardrobes* against each other and see who is striking the best pose in our house this season.
Shoes and boots
For the third winter running the Child is rocking a pair of pretty awesome Dr Martens. This year’s colour of choice is cherry red. My rather sensible and kind of boring flats can’t compete against those bad boys. Plus I’ve scratched the bastards already so I pretty much hate them. One day me and the Child will have matching DMs and then she’ll probably burst into flames with embarrassment but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
Verdict: The Child’s whooped my ass with her boot-iful footwear
I like my dresses like my men, short and covered in lizards. The Child prefers hers covered in tigers (dresses not men). Either way we’re both rocking a patterned mini this winter.
Verdict: It’s too close to call; tigers and lizards live in harmony in our house.
I’ve made no secret of my love of a tighted thigh and this year the Child has begun what can only be described as a cat theme with her choice of hosiery. My black 60 denier are no competition, although on particularly cold days I do swap them for a fleecy lined blue pair (hubba hubba).
Verdict: The Child’s tights are the purrfect winter accessory.
This year I let the Child choose her own hat. I wanted her to have the fox one but she chose this rather natty cat number which also has matching gloves. And for me? Well I bought a fucking massive one because I’ve always wanted one and never had the guts. But this year is the year of the big hat. It may not keep my ears warm, it may blow-off in strong gales but it creates a mighty fine shadow in the winter sun. I can also wear it whilst standing in front of walls and pretend I’m an Instagram influencer.
Verdict: Usually bigger is better (am I right ladies?) but the Child’s hat has bobbles on so that trumps a big brim.
You can’t beat a woolly jumper in my book and when you pick up a Boden one second-hand for £2 and it has a fricking hedgehog on it you know you’re winning at life. I on the otherhand have gone for a plain black cardy because it goes with everything and my desk is by a drafty door. Yawn.
Verdict: Like good girls, black cardigans never win.
I love a novelty slipper but ever since I cracked two ribs falling down the stairs in a pair of frog shaped ones I’ve been banned from wearing them. Now I have no slippers because I’d rather freeze than wear slippers that aren’t shaped like a unicorn. The Child hates novelty slippers so has ended up with a yawn-fest Frozen pair.
Verdict: We’re both losers here.
I love winter coats and if I could, I would buy about 300 a year. Unfortunately my bank balance doesn’t stretch to that so I’ve settled for a bottle green lovely. After I wrestled the Child away from a Peppa Pig monstrosity we settled on this coat. We still argue about what animal is on the pockets – I say mouse, the Child says cat, the Huband doesn’t give a toss.
Verdict: Animal motifs always beat understated and suitable for work garb.
I’m wearing my cheapy red affair for the billionth year in a row whereas the Child’s body is being warmed in a spiggin’ dinosaur affair.
Verdict: Gilet-osaurus for the win
Thanks to Whinge Whinge Wine’s impeccable taste in toddler pyjamas the Child now sports a rather delightful range of dino/ monster pyjamas. Not to be outdone I too have dinosaur pyjamas but mine have party hats on because I am CRAY-ZY.
Verdict: I’m taking this one because my dino nightwear is the shit.
Oh yes, the daddy of all acrylic knitwear. I’ve already bought the Child’s jumper (with matching leggings no less) but mine is still to be purchased. Last year I tried to go understated but it was just not me so this year I think I’m going all out. It will be garish, it will be tacky and it will play a mother-fucking tune.
Verdict: Still to play for but I play to win.
* none of these clothes were gifted to us and all were paid for by my very own pennies. If companies do want to lavish me and the Child with clothes we like really expensive ones. Or just cash. Ta la.