Is twinning winning or sinning?

If you'd have told me pre kids that mum and toddler twinning was a thing, I'd never have believed you.

Firstly, there were no circumstances in which I could imagine a grown woman in her early thirties (or beyond) wearing gear that would suit a toddler out of choice. You know, pink gear, blue gear, frilly gear, towelling gear, baby grows... not when you could by then no doubt afford gorgeous tailored suits, real diamonds and Christian Louboutins.

Secondly, I'd seen twinning done. I'm a child of the 80s. It was not good. Not good at all. If you don't have a picture of you and your brother/sister/cousin/bestie in matching fluro gear then you were probably not a peer of mine - and by which I mean Northern, 80s and working class. In that case, you may not have the same predisposition to seeing 'twinning' as being quite as perturbing as I do; fair enough. But in the 80s that I knew, it was, as Chris Issak said, a bad bad thing. Mums back then sewed not because they wanted to or were particularly talented at it in most cases, but out of necessity. Making your own was once much cheaper than shopping in Tammy Girl. And apparently most mums also bought fabric seriously en masse. Maybe in case material gems such as lemon check print featuring wind surfers were coveted by everyone they knew and they might miss out on them. Maybe for the bulk discounts. Who really knows? But the result for most of us back then was that you spent at least a part of your youth in dodgily sewn gear that your second cousin, brother, sister, third cousin twice removed and next door neighbour, Richard, all had a similar version of.

Thirdly, since about 1800 and right up until the 80s when making kids matching outfits became a mainstream thing, the only people doing it were usually fanatically religious mormons or had questionable mental faculties. And even they had the good grace to confine their fashion foibles to 'Christmas cards from the family of... '

These days though, 'twinning' is sold as cool. Matchy matchy with your mini. Mum and daughters in the same headbands or scrunchies adorn my instagram feed. Mum and mini gypsy dresses. Mum and mini sunnies. And it's not just clothes. There's mum and mini manicures. Mum and mini high teas. Mum and mini selfies. These days, mum and mini are apparently besties. And the best way to show they're besties, is to be matchies too.

Now, darn it, it can look cute. I've double tapped a lot of pictures of beautiful women and their three year olds standing against white walls in the same print. Even though every fibre of my being screams, it's weird. It's crass. You're a parent not a friend or a sibling. Make your own sartorial choices ladies and let your littles do the same...

And I think that is my biggest problem with it. That all this mum and babe lookalike bestiness, actually, is all about mum. I get that there are some uber stylish kids out there. But, call me a cynic, I reckon the majority of four year olds are going to opt for the garish my little pony dress with rainbow tulle skirt over mustard corduroy dungarees and a peach toned turban to match with mum. Which means that someone else is calling the shots on their kit. Or at least, the kit that's cool enough to make it onto the Insta feed. Perhaps the rest of the time these dolls do dress as Postman Pat and wear Dangermouse T shirts. But no one's validating their choices by showcasing those outfits to the (virtual) world and I think that's sad.

When I was three I wore a pink towel T shirt with an elephant on it and my dark blue denim jeans almost every single day because I loved them. Were they not clean, I had the same T shirt in yellow and another pair of jeans. In summer, begrudgingly, the T shirts got paired with shorts. I teamed these with my mum's silver teddy bear necklace, which many years later she gifted me and remains one of my favourite things in the world. I wore a demin ra ra skirt and a pink 'Pool Party' crop T shirt for a year in top juniors as my 'uniform' because we didn't have a uniform and I bloody loved those two items in equal measure. I looked like a chubby Madonna in every single school photo from that twelve month period in Mr Critchlow's, but jeez I was happy. I relished making my own choices about what to wear and I am so grateful to my mum that I got to always have that freedom. OK, mostly. She made a few fashion calls on my behalf when we were going to places that my too short off the shoulder tube dress wouldn't have fitted the dress code. Plus, there was that collection of stuff she and her friends and siblings made for me and - everyone vaguely my size in the neighbourhood - which I had to don at least on occasion. But when I wore that stuff, I never felt it was mine. I never felt like me. So I didn't do it often. And I didn't pose for pictures in it could I help it.

One of the things I recall most vividly about being a kid was choosing my own stuff and loving what I wore or how I decorated my room. Carebears, not style, featured heavily in both looking back...

For me, my space and my clothes were very much an expression of who I was and if I wasn't impressed when I didn't get to pick my own on occasion, I'd have been horrified beyond belief if mum had worn the same thing as me as well as dictating what that was.

I mean, why the hell would she? She was, er, old. She was my mum. She was a totally different person to me with different tastes and a different body shape and I'm pretty sure she never wanted to be the same as me either. She wanted to be her as much as I wanted to be me. And we were not that similar at all.

So where has all this twinning with your mini bestie come from? And is it a good idea?

An enormous part of me finds it creepy and cringey in equal measure. Not to mention a bit of a waste. I mean, there really are only a few years of your life you can wear pants with frills on the bum and look cute. It seems a shame for someone to cut into those and to dress you all classy in grown up muted tones with colour coordinated accessories.

On the flipside, kids clothes are better now than they used to be. Super cute in fact. So very cute, that I do actually want to own them too. Some of them anyway. And while pre-mum-me thought I'd be wearing exy designer clothes and swanning about Chanel by the time I was about to hit 40, actually, I'm not. In part, because what I really need are clothes that are loose, easy wash and don't show my knickers when I scale the helter skelter to rescue a child or have to show one how to do a handstand. Clothes, as it happens, just like they ones they make for toddlers. Hmmm.

Turns out, if you want me, I'll be over here wearing the same topknot and Saltwater sandals as Betts standing

against a white wall asking a passer by to pap me. Or I mean, I would be if Betts didn't actually want to dress as a pirate and I can't afford the kiddy versions of what I like, let alone the grown up ones.

But I'm OK with others doing it. Whatever floats your boat. And you look cute. Both of you.

Plus, maybe your kid will think so too when they're 26 and they look back at the pictures. Or maybe not. Maybe they'll just remember the my little pony dress they never got to wear to any of their friends birthday parties. The risk is yours. I think I'm out.

#Style #Fashion #choices #Twinning #Mum #Daughter