my 4 yr old is my style icon

how to dress like you’re new to wearing clothes

My daughter walks down the stairs, and my husband says to her, “Woah, great fit.”

I look and it is. It’s a little batshit, but also great and would not be out of place on an SSENSE e-comm model. Later the same day, we visit some friends and one of them looks at my daughter and exclaims, “You look like a famous person’s kid.” He’s right. And I can’t stop thinking about it.

I am not blessed with a natural flair for styling. I have friends with an extremely fluid and creative understanding of how to put outfits together, but I don’t have this. My styling is very studied. I spend so much time staring at outfits I like, trying to understand how and why they work, and how they could be adapted for me. I believe that styling is a learnable skill and artistic medium one can develop a mastery over, but lacking that mastery as I do now, I find my styling choices either pretty logical and straightforward or wrong, but not in the right way. I know this sounds overly self-deprecating, but I think maybe you know by now how intense I am, and believe me when I say I definitely overestimate my abilities in other areas, so it all comes out in the wash.

This is all to say that, in looking at my daughter’s outfit, I did the thing. I wondered why we all liked it and if its magic could translate to being worn by a grown woman (me).

The way typical four-year-olds get dressed is a real push-and-pull of desire vs. pragmatism (aka child vs. parent). The process is a collaboration between two entities with diametrically opposing interests, usually thrown together in a rush. These conditions produce visual tension, and tension is interesting.

Please see below: two case studies of outfits my child has worn, how they came to be, and sketches of how I would adapt them for my 36-year-old pear-shaped form.

Case Study 1: “You look like a famous person’s kid”

My version from top: LOEWE Flower Sunglasses, Adidas Track Jacket, Carven Sheer Skirt, Ashley Williams Bunny Tights, Platform Crocs

The day before, my family had gone to the mall because it was raining and because we like it. We got frozen yoghurt, tried on $900 sunglasses, and let my daughter pick out some spring clothes, including a new dress. We gave her the option of a few dresses, and she chose the one that was solid pink because she knows with every fibre of her being that she loves pink. This knowing is extremely visceral. She didn’t choose it because a colour lady told her she was a Spring or whatever. She chose it because she loves it, and the idea of wearing a colour she doesn’t love is deeply offensive to her.

So we get the pink dress, and the next morning, that is what she wants to wear. It isn’t that warm outside, so that means pants underneath dress. The unicorn ones are clean, and my daughter feels about unicorns the way she feels about pink, so…yeah. The dress has short sleeves, so I tell my daughter she has to wear a sweater. She hates the idea of this, insisting she will wear her thin denim jacket. I say no, not warm enough. She starts fuming, so my husband pulls out everything from her sweater drawer and tells her to pick one. There’s an Adidas track jacket in that mix, which she chooses, and as she puts it on, she joyfully points out that it technically isn’t a sweater, so I…lose? Her sneakers are soaked from jumping in a puddle that morning, so she has to wear her Crocs. Her light blue sunglasses (not pictured) are on the floor by the door, so she puts them on her face instead of putting them away.

Case Study 2: Normcore Chanel at Church

My version from top: Moncler Sunglasses, Toteme Organza Blouse, Chanel Suit and Bag from Resort SS25, Pointelle Tights, New Balance Sneakers

In a recent tabs newsletter, I wrote about attending my nephew’s first communion. True to form, my daughter’s outfit is weird - Normcore Chanel - and I think about how this is not how I would style a lil tweed suit, and maybe it should be? The suit (gilet, skirt, and matching purse) was from Winners. Again, it’s not warm, so we decide that my daughter will have to wear something underneath the set. This is a touchstone of preschooler dressing: they always wear the layers an adult would go without in the service of vanity. You can’t let kids be cold, so you pop random things under their clothes, which essentially ruin their outfits to great effect. My daughter weirdly loves this cream turtleneck, so that goes under with some cream tights. She has “nice” shoes but can’t wear them for very long, so we tell her to wear her sneakers. Preschoolers do wrong shoe theory with such aplomb because they are actually the right shoes, if you think about it. They have to wear comfortable shoes because they haven’t lost their minds thinking it’s worthwhile to wear uncomfortable shoes to look hot and tall. That comes with time. But it doesn’t need to - style yourself up like a four-year-old by wearing comfy-ass sneakers in your favourite colour. Also, have a favourite colour. None of this pretending you’re too old for it. Mine’s green.

My daughter loves these hand-me-down plastic aviators and pops them in her little tweed purse as we head out the door.

Case Study 3: “There’s a possum outside.”

My version from top: Jeff Hamilton Bomber Jacket, Connor Ives Regenerated Henley (coming FW25), Ashley Williams Sweatpants, Balenciaga Rain boots

It’s a weekend morning, and my daughter and I are derping around the kitchen while my husband walks the dog. She is wearing this vintage tutu over her pyjamas. My husband walks in the door saying, “There’s a possum outside.” My daughter and I scramble to get shoes and jackets on so we can catch a glimpse of this thing. My husband is like, “Why do you need to see it?” We just have to. It’s that simple. Except it’s not because we’re too late. My daughter is wearing what she was before, plus a pink jacket and rain boots.

Ok, what did we learn?

1. Wear what brings you joy. Like crazy joy. What’s your favourite colour? Who cares if it doesn’t suit you? Wear it. What animals do you like? Buy clothes with pictures of those guys on them. Did you want to be an astronaut when you grew up, but then had undiagnosed ADHD and never lived up to your potential? Wear a silver tracksuit and pretend you live on a spaceship. Children are beautifully committed to celebrating their favourite things on their bodies every single day. How can you do that in your grown-up wardrobe/life?

2. At four years old, nobody has ever shamed my daughter for dressing silly so she doesn’t give a fuck. She wears whatever she wants and only cares that it is a) something she likes or b) that it is “cosy” (aka comfortable).

3. Speaking of, little kids have no tolerance for discomfort in clothing. They don’t care how it looks; if it doesn’t feel good, they aren’t wearing it. Normalise feeling zero physical discomfort via your clothes. Normalise comfortable shoes that you could play tag in.

4. Style irreverently. We see a track jacket and we think, ok, sporty. I know that vibe. We see Chanel-inspired tweed, and we do the same A-to-B thinking. A kid combines pieces of clothing without any regard for the item’s semiotic meaning or cultural context. This makes for great pairings because they are neither styling like-with-like nor consciously seeking contrast.

   They are just wearing clothes, man.