As soon-to-be parents, we find ourselves awash in baby clothing. This isn’t a problem, given that I hear most newborns go through more costume changes than Diana Ross at the Sands—though maybe fewer sequins. The problem is this: sizing for baby clothes is a joke, or an example of the chaos that runs rampant throughout the known universe. Take for instance, the following exhibit:
All of these outfits claim to be for a 3-month-old baby. I didn’t put a preemie outfit in here, although we have one (I’m not sure why). To exacerbate the confusion, two of these three onesies are from the same maker, Carter’s, who clearly is operating without consistent size standards between its Indonesian and Malaysia factories. Then there are the differences between brands. In the exhibit presented, the top outfit is from Garanimals, thus I presume they’re using some data gleaned from scientific research in the Safari to produce that tiny outfit.
We’ve gone ahead and decided to eschew all size labeling, and will instead hold up our baby in the clothing departments of our local K-Mart and ShopKo to assess which garments best approximate a tailored fit. This may become more difficult when our child is 60 pounds, but I guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get there.
In the meantime, I’ll leave exact measurements on this blog and other social networking sites so that our shopping loving relatives can have the latest information on our child’s dimensions and avoid becoming flummoxed by the fashion industry’s early entry into body hatred and dressing room anxiety. Besides, there’s nothing worse for a grandmother than to procure the cutest damn outfit for her grandchild, than a shirt that only would have fit a few months ago.
Also, I will shortly have no time to take clothes back for a return, especially once I’ve angered store managers by holding my drooling baby up to all of their clothes.
Perhaps we’ll just let the little tyke crawl around in a diaper and leave it at that.