Waisted Youth

The Boy's pants won't stay up. The seemingly gigantic waistline of his pants slips down over his ass, barely clinging to the back of his diaper, which from a distance gives the impression of a very short, incontinent gangsta. He has had this problem for most of his brief life.

He is lean, like a rail, and sinewy. He has enviable six-pack abs, the toddler famine belly long gone. Kids' sizes are not as varied as adults; 1T, 2T, 3T, that's pretty much it. Many pants come with an elastic band around the waist that can be tugged out and the slits down its center can be slipped over buttons to tighten the waist, but with the Boy it is pulled to the last button leaving long tendrils of elastic frequently hanging over the top of his trousers. Other pairs of his pants have no such tightening device, so, his pants fall down. We have been forced to put him a size smaller upon occasion, but that means his pants are too short.

Kids' clothes are a pain. The rate at which they grow through them is astounding and budget-busting. Two or three inches added per year in height means that the pants purchased two months ago are no longer acceptable today. Our shopping trips are nothing more than attempts to stem the tide; fingers in the dike. The classic method of purchasing items that "they will grow into" can easily go awry when you miss the season and the too-large shorts you purchased are finally grown into as the leaves begin to fall. By the next summer, he's far too big for them. You can't win.

There's a home movie from a childhood Christmas of mine. In it I am perhaps two and half and am trying on new pants, a gift from my grandparents. My mother is pulling up the cuffs to achieve some functional length. She pulls them and pulls them until she can go no higher because the cuff of the pants is stopped by my crotch, and still the pants are too long. Though the movie is silent, I know my grandmother is saying, from somewhere out of the frame, "Oh, he'll grow into them." I doubt that I've ever grown into them. In the movie I could care less. They are new jeans and have a matching jean jacket, the sleeves of which are also rolled up to the point of absurdity, as well. I obviously liked them, unaware that I would never be able to wear them. I guess I thought, that despite their enormity, the jacket and jeans were very fashionable.

I hate little sayings on kids' clothes; "I heart Grandma," "Call me Princess," and the like. Even the hip ones like, "What Would Joe Strummer Do?" or a classic Che Guevera onsie annoy me. The kid doesn't get it, so the child becomes nothing but an inside joke or a billboard for some parent's life. I have no idea why manufacturers feel the need to cover children with trucks, and baseballs and turtles either. Just give them some tasteful clothing for heavens sake.

When we buy clothes for the kids we prefer simplicity and durablility. Fashion takes a back seat. However, there are things I like, things that I believe are ideal for kids. Boden has been my go to option, despite their prices, for good boys' pants that stand out but don't offend my sensibilites. They also have drawstring waists, a must have for our kid. We got him a pair of plaid flannel pants when he began walking and are about to get him his third pair. I love them. If they made them for men I would wear nothing else. Cozy, comfy, kind of goofy. Maybe that's how we ultimately dress our children; as we we wish to have been dressed ourselves. Except for the whole pants below the ass thing.