Before my daughter was born, I had a mental blip that made me think that a baby born in mid-August would require an enormous wardrobe of gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers and such, forgetting that oh right: babies don't tend to take a ton of trips to the seashore when they are a week old. And then it was fall, and too cold for gauzy little sundresses and gingham jumpers, and Gap doesn't let you return items that are more than 60 days old for the original purchase price and et cetera et cetera sigh. At least I have a pair of tiny silver huarache sandals for her to wear in February, when they will finally fit her (brain freeze, what can I say?).

So anyway, I went shopping for autumnal infant clothing yesterday. Which is basically the most fun thing in the world, especially when you stumble upon things like leopard jeans and little sweatshirts with heart pockets (if you have a little girl - or a little boy with a penchant for heart pockets - I insist that you buy that sweatshirt up there; it is so cute).

We do need to talk about that tulle overall thing for a moment. I didn't actually buy it not because it is not the platonic ideal of baby girl clothing (because it is), but rather because I am so excited about it that I need to wait until Goldie is just a tiny bit bigger and will be able to wear it more. Like every day maybe.