Before giving birth, I opted not to find out the sex of my baby. My husband and I both agreed that we wanted the wonderful surprise of waiting to discover whether we were welcoming a son or daughter to our family. Also, to be honest, I really didn’t want friends and family plying us with all things pink or blue based on the simple difference of a chromosome (and if I’m being completely honest, I had a feeling it was a girl and I dislike pink). Beyond the gender-specific colors, I also cringe at everything sparkly, princess-y, and otherwise feminine when it comes to baby clothes and toys.
My big worry is that “girly” things are very appearance driven. Glitter-glammed skirts, flashy hair bows, and makeup for tots all seem to promote the idea that dressing and looking a certain way are of paramount importance. Sure, it’s important to look nice but aren’t babies cute enough without parents peppering them with hearts and flowers and butterfly designs? This holds mostly true for boys as well—do they really need trucks and dinosaurs tromping across their rompers?
Of course, I’m not the only parent who feels this way, but I may be in the minority to admit that I often doubt my intentions. As a childhood tomboy who would only wear navy blue and forest green and demanded that her hair be cut short, I often felt like I was breaking the bright-pink mold by rejecting dresses. I thought I was projecting an image of confidence that wasn’t tied to appearance and that my lack of concern for having the latest, greatest girly accessory meant I thought for myself. But, if I really think about it, my anti-girly message was probably more for myself than my peers. I doubt anyone was reflecting upon my fashion choices and what they meant to the pre-teen community.
So is it really my place now to force some aesthetic preference (or repugnance) on my own daughter—whether that be at 4 months or 4 years or 14 years? Wouldn’t that be just another way of supporting the message that appearance does matter, when my intention is to do the exact opposite? Instead, I think my efforts are better spent ensuring that she becomes a kind, hardworking, thoughtful, and respectful person.
To be clear, this doesn’t mean I’m going to stock up on magenta onesies or frilly footies, but I will definitely spend less time exchanging rose-colored gifts for gray or yellow ones. And I’ve quietly promised myself that I won’t steer my daughter in the direction of my own sartorial preferences when she’s old enough to choose for herself. It would probably backfire anyway.
Whitney C. Harris is a freelance writer living in Westchester, NY. She had her first child, a daughter named Rowan, last summer. Find her at whitneycharris.com.
