Ladies and gentlemen, she’s back.
And she’s back with a rant.
Not a rant about that carnival in homage to opulence, the Melbourne Cup (although I do have my thoughts on that which I will save for some other day), or on Halloween (though this is also one waiting to happen, just as soon as the Little Lion asks me to dress him as a corpse bride and take him door-to-door begging for all the crap I won’t buy him at the supermarket checkout). No, this is a rant about our apparent need to dress our babies up ALL THE TIME.
Yep, I have an issue with, an aversion to, a passionate loathing of cutsie-pie little baby animal ears on EVERY ITEM OF BABYWEAR IN EXISTENCE!
Don’t get me wrong, I love baby animals. Who doesn’t love those over-sized innocent eyes, those big floppy, fluffy clumsy bundles of cuteness? In fact, I currently have a baby animal crush of my very own – our neighbour’s big bull, Ronald, recently got a bit how now with the brown cow, Sally and the result is a most beautiful little calf tottering around the yard. If nothing else, little baby cow makes me hail mummy Sally as my birthing hero – damn that’s a big animal to push out in a field, sans midwife!
My point is, baby animals are cute, but why do people feel the need to dress their babies as baby zebras, baby tigers, baby bears, baby bunnies, baby bloody everything? Are baby humans so inferior to their four-legged cousins? Do baby humans really need fluffy little ears on top of their heads to cut it in the oh-ah-so-cute stakes? You don’t see mummy cat dressing her kittens in spotted suits to look like leopards, do you? You don’t see mummy duck tying on big pointy bunny ears, do you? So why, as the supposedly more ‘advanced’ species, do we?
I blame Anne Geddes for the plague of childrens’ wear with ears. She started it with her bumble bees. Now you can’t buy a snuggly jumpsuit without head protrusions. You may see what looks like a lovely, simple hoodie and sigh in relief that you have finally found something that doesn’t make your daughter look like a Video Hits tart or a fairy princess, or your son a pirate or a death metal rocker, but then *BAM!* you’re hit with the ears and you dissolve into tears… well, at least I do.
I can only thank my luck stars that I have received so many hand-me-down clothes for Blossom, that I won’t have to wrestle with the petting zoo childrens’ wear section for at least another 12 months. By then, with any luck, the world will have woken up to fact that children do enough ‘being animals’ without us encouraging them from birth… or maybe by then Halloween marketing will have met up with the end of Easter and we will all be able to slip smoothly from bunnies to werewolves to elves to bunnies to werewolves to elves to bunnies…
I just want my kids to be kids. Don’t you?