I've always been a firm believer in letting my kids wear what they want. Well, within limits obviously. If my daughter wants to go out in skirts barely covering her ass and pasties when she's a teenager, there will be a line drawn. But other than that, my kids can wear what they are comfortable in.
Kaden, my twelve year old, loves camo. Looooooves it. Especially while Patrick was deployed, he wore camo everyday. And he also got swarms of camo gear for Christmas.
He told me the other day that a bunch of kids at school pick on him and call him "Army boy" at school for his clothes.
And so I asked him what they were wearing. He couldn't remember. "Exactly," I said, "You wear things that stand out and are different. People remember that. And as much as they make fun of you, their style will never have the impact that yours does."
Patrick chimed in with stories of when I was in high school and people used to make fun of what I wore. I was nothing fashionably ground breaking, believe you me, but I certainly had a . . . different style than the other girls in my school. Think Punky Brewster with a 90's grunge kind of twist. "And now look at her," he says, "People always compliment her on how she dresses now."
"Further," I told him, "You tell people that your dad just got back fighting for their right to voice their opinions on your clothes. And when he did, it was in camo." He'll be all right.
Gingham Oxford Shirt-Millie, thrifted; Beige Blazer-thrifted; Rust Silk Harem Trousers-eBay; Tie-Vanheusen, Patrick's; Fedora-K-Mart; Two Tone Cap Toe Heels-Franco Sarto
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