The Gurly Side of Things

In high school my favorite color was black. To even think about the color pink, let alone wear it, was completely forbidden in my mind. Pink was for preppies. For the pretty, popular girls. By the time I hit college, I added in the occasional splash of purple, just because in goth world, purple is acceptable. I remember when I was a kid, pre-high school, my mom would tell me that black was for funerals. She had one black suit, saved for just such an occasion. My, my, my how things have changed. Black is the new, uh, other-than-black, and a black suit (at least one!) is a staple item in any working-woman’s wardrobe.

Also in college, I fantasized about having children that I would dress in black, boys whose hair I would allow to grow to unacceptable lengths, girls decked in velvet or lace. Silly me. Yes, I grew out of it. And while it took some time beyond even that, I did eventually learn to embrace color. Lots of it. For three years I was the manager of a high-end women’s and children’s clothing store called Oilily, designed in the Netherlands. Oilily’s fundamental idea is that kids should dress like kids, not like mini-adults. Kids should be able to wear washable, fun, colorful, high-quality, beautifully-detailed clothing for all occasions. Their mothers should be able to be fashionable, yet still young at heart. Oilily never sold black. As the manager, I had to wear their clothing every day. Color and pattern became my mantra, and I knew then that any future child of mine would wear similar free-spirited apparel (although I knew I could not afford Oilily).

While I still cannot afford Oilily, I have tried to replicate their general tenets and beliefs when dressing Samantha, only on a shoestring budget. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of it. I have learned to love pink, orange and turquoise, both for her and for me. I love the balance and juxtaposition of whimsical and wearable. Play and pose. Fun and frill. Princess, mixed with a dollop of tomboy. I do worry that one day she will rebel against all things girly and decide that she’d prefer to wear black, but for the time being, she doesn’t mind what I put her in (except for her decision this weekend to change out of my initial offerings into her own selections, but I’ll save that for another blog post about independence). My photos today are a) from my cell phone, so please ignore the quality, and b) a glimpse into her exploration of the girly side of things.