I wish this outfit still fit Chooch.
Oh who am I kidding – I wish this outfit fit me.
When I was that age, I was wearing frumpy knee-length skirts and moccasins WITH SOCKS.
Now Chooch is at the age where it’s harder to find cool clothes for him, so I decided that I’m going to buy Henry a sewing machine and he’s going to start making the clothes I design for Chooch – it’ll be like a little Brookline sweatshop! (Better than a little Brookline methlab though, amirite.) So far, everything I designed for him (in my head – I don’t fuck with sketches) has lots of sequins, fun-fur and stuffed animal heads.
Clothing design is one of the few artsy things I haven’t dabbled in yet, but I’m sure I will become poor-to-mediocre at that as well, in due time. Just like jewelry-making and flash fiction!
I know I drive Chooch nuts with my rabid control over his wardrobe, but if I leave it up to him and Henry, he’ll be wearing over-sized Minecraft shirts and shapeless jeans and I won’t allow that. He’s either going to grow up with the unbridled confidence to be fashionably adventurous (LIKE G-DRAGON <3), or he’s going to wear Crocs and stained Steelers seeatshirts.
I guess I’ll still love him either way….?
I think the moral of this uninspired post is that I’m bored as fuck and need a new hobby because blogging and fake-painting make me yawn. In other words: Get your thread and bobbins, Henry Robbins!
ETA: I just filled Henry in and he said “How does your new hobby involve me seeing?” LOL oh Henry.