I have mixed feelings about kids wearing vintage clothes.
The sentimental part of me loves to see an intricate victorian smock or a miniature 1930's suit. I marvel at the workmanship involved in creating the little beauties. I don my rose tinted spectacles and visualise a forgotten era of white linen clad, flaxen-haired children, romping through fields.
The pragmatic part of me thinks that anyone who spends a fortune dressing their kids in delicate antiques instead of letting them run free in modern fabrics is taking a retro aesthetic just a little too far. Really folks, if your kids look like extras from The Railway Children or 'Oliver!', there's something not quite right going on
However, when I saw these embroidered shirts at The Shop in Cheshire St, I couldn't resist buying them. Despite the all-American look, they''re Indian cheesecloth from the 1970's. They're tiny (made to fit an 18 month year old), which is a pity, because if they were any bigger I would definitely be trying to squeeze myself into them.
I love the crudeness of the embroidery and the strange heiroglyphs that appear on the sleeves - the writing is clear enough, and there seems to be some sort of bird, but the last one is deeply mysterious - whatever it started off as has obviously been lost in translation.
How can I justify buying these when I have such conflicting feelings about children's vintage?
I'm keeping them for myself and putting them on my wall.