One of my earliest childhood memories involves a puddle, purple rain boots and a pair of denim overalls with a flower on the front pocket. It was the first item of clothing I could put on myself, untwisting the straps and hooking them to the buttons before proudly standing before the mirror. There I was, a bonafide big kid ready to take on the balmy summer afternoon, pockets full of the plastic zoo animals I took with me everywhere.
Fast forward to now, twenty some odd summers later… I’ve outgrown the overalls by a mile but I’m still kicking around in denim and so, not surprisingly are my kids.
Archer brilliantly pairs his favorite grey jeans with yellow shades, coincidentally coordinating with the “Travel Town” balance beam. Well played.
Fable strikes a pose in her denim jacket, drop-waist dress and handmade bow.
In my favorite skinny dark-denim jeans and denim wedge shoes.
Vest belonged to my grandfather.
Shirt = thrifted.
I tend to (try to?) dress for comfort and style. Same goes for my kids who must at all times be comfortable for daily adventuring, collecting moments and playing games, running down sidewalks, digging in the sand… For us that means jeans, mixing and matching denim pieces with cotton dresses, tees and sandals for summer.
Archer’s at the age where he picks his own clothes but Fable, for the time being, is still my baby and I omgso completely enjoy picking her little outfits in the morning. Layering thrifted pieces with new items, hand-me-downs with homemade gifts.
I think a lot about Archer and Fable and what they will remember. And I wonder if, much like I can remember the feel of the suspender buttons on my flowered denim overalls, they will hold the same kinds of memories. Of the lovingly worn jeans with the hole in the knee…
And if I happen to forget, my mind cloudy with a chance time-blurred memories? I’ll have thousands (literally, thousands) of pictures to remind us all.