The perils of baby fashion

I can change a nappy, no matter how gruesome the contents, I’ve had every imaginable bodily excretion smeared onto my clothing, and I can function on under four hours sleep in 24.

Barely, but I can do it. There is one area though that defeats me, that brings me out in a cold sweat and makes raise my hands in surrender: Clothes.

I have little fashion sense. My usual technique is to grab the nearest, cleanest, items out of the wardrobe and put them on in a random order.

With Erin it’s different. My wife is insistent (and rightly so) that our daughter looks well-presented in public. This usually involves Clare leaving Erin an outfit out, so when I dress her in the morning she doesn’t look like a colour-blind harlequin.

At times Clare tries to bring me into a clothing conversation.

“Do you think this top goes with these pants?” She’ll ask.

I look at the top, I look at the pants, I look at the top again and occasionally hold it up to the light as if to see it clearer.

Complimentary colours and trends are a mystery to me so eventually I agree the top and pants do go well together because, simply, if Clare thinks they are a good combination then 99 per cent of the time they are.

On the rare occasion I choose an outfit for Erin to wear outside the house I tend to play it safe. Keep to single shades for tops and pants, or better yet, you can’t go wrong with white leggings and any colour dress.

I’ve never liked how the default colour for girls is bright pink but if it comes to picking a shocking pink dress or having to work out which t-shirt goes with which trousers I’ll choose a dress so garish it would make the women off TOWIE blush.

I know I’ve done well when Clare responds with, “That’s nice.”

 Mind, I also get compliments for wearing matching socks so maybe the bar for positive feedback is set quite low.

Just when I think I’ve got a grasp of what to put together and can assuredly reach into the wardrobe and pull out two complementary items, Erin has a growth spurt and we need to buy everything new again.

Safe to say, I’m not one for regular trips to fashion retailers. Occasionally I’ll point at myself in a picture taken more than 10 years ago and, much to Clare’s dismay, proudly state “I’ve still got that shirt.”

When I do have something which is beyond wear I’ll go to the shops and search out the nearest available match.

Red shirts are replaced with other red shirts, socks are replaced with similar socks, the only real change is t-shirts emblazoned with band names haven’t been updates as those musicians aren’t around anymore (don’t scoff teenagers, it’ll happen to you).

Add to this how kids clothing sections are very different from the mens, and it’s been a bit of a culture shock.

After 15 months I think I’m finally getting a handle on things so for other dads here is a quick primer: First, make sure you know the age and gender of your baby before entering the shop.

Kids clothes are sensibly divided by age, and less-sensibly divided into pink for girls and everything else for boys (can I mention again how much I dislike the default ‘pink for girls’ trend).

Second, keep an eye on every other shopper’s movements. Amazingly, despite being the target audience, it’s impossible to go down a baby clothing aisle when there’s already a pram in there.

Don’t shop on Saturdays.

Finally, have a good idea of what you want. There are many shiny things in the kids section and getting distracted is too easy.

If your shopping trip is just for vests, don’t start looking at the baby Star Wars t-shirts unless you want to go back home carrying cute Jar Jar Binks outfits.

Clothes, shopping, fashion. The triumvirate of dad horrors for men (at least till Erin is old enough to date).

Luckily I have a plan. Clare enjoys shopping and I enjoy spending afternoons quietly in a pub having a restful drink.

Erin is taking her first, wobbly, steps and as she gets more confident she’ll be more independently mobile. Soon all the stars will align, Clare and Erin can enjoy a girly afternoon at the shops, and I can wait peacefully in the Barley Mow till it’s time to go home.

It’ll mean breaking the ‘No shopping on Saturdays’ rule but it’ll be worth it to achieve fashion nirvana.

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