Clothes Maketh the Man

Clothes maketh the man. Naked people have

 little or no influence on society.

                                                Mark Twain

Last week H and I helped a friend go shopping for suits, shirts and shoes as he was about to begin a new job as a lawyer. It was an honour to be asked as he said, “I think when you’re in your work attire you’re the most stylish man I know.” Of course flattery will get you everywhere and the three men spent a day out purchasing all the gear to help him look stylish in his new job.

There are of course a number of people who would disagree with my friend and his statement on my dress sense. As a primary school teacher it’s easy to make your socks or tie the hero of the outfit, and I often did. However, a few years ago I had a similar experience where a friend of mine took me suit shopping and I learnt to take more time in my dress and grooming. I didn’t always pull on the loud socks and ties which had a story – I really like putting on a well cut suit, shirt and tie with a great pair of shoes.

It does give a man confidence to dress well and this is something I have wanted to teach my son right from the beginning of this year. This led to me working on my wardrobe for the year as I wouldn’t be able to wear a suit or similar work attire while looking after H. I purchased a few new shirts and a number of pairs of tailored shorts as well as appropriate shoes to go with these outfits (as I read back over this in editing it sounds like a have a little bit of a shoe fetish!). The shorts have been an excellent purchase, as Sydney’s summer has seemed to extend all the way into June.

All the clothes that I purchased at the beginning of the year are starting to show definite signs of wear and tear. The shorts need constant stain removal as a small pair of greasy or dirty hands reaches up to tug, first at the hem and now almost to the waist leaving marks aplenty. In true Murphy’s Law style as well H has on many occasion spilt, sprayed or poured liquids into the perfect position to make it appear as if his father has wet himself. And showing that O’Toole’s law is true and Murphy was an optimist – it’s always happened out in public!

My choice of new shirts has been an interesting one. As the year has progressed a number of shirts seemed to have drifted to the wayside. When I went back and looked at them it was because they were all plain shirts in blocks or lighter shades. Why did they seem to be ones that I wouldn’t choose on a consistent basis? Quite simply I realised as I thought about it more was because they again showed up the marks and stains that only a little person can bring with an unparalleled ease. Check shirts especially have been great, as has the odd paisley or floral number (yes sartorial elegance does still occasionally give way to something that is a conversation starter!). However, as winter has begun to creep upon us finally I am now left to ponder that all my jumpers are plain colours and after just a week they are starting to show the wear of little hands.

H and his dad both seem to like a good pair of boots.

At the same time as I have worked on looking somewhat stylish I have attempted to do the same with H. There are though the practicalities of dressing a small child such as the ease of doing nappy changes at the most inopportune time or place. Most children’s clothes are very good for this but some that are designed to look amazing and have no practical value what so ever! Many of the most practical pieces of clothing are also in horrendous florescent colours which seem to have been left over from the late 80s / early 90s to the extent I am sure I will find something in hyper-colour soon! This has led me to finding the balance between patterns and blocks of colour for H to wear so that he doesn’t look like he’s about to walk onto a construction site. 

Returning to Mark Twain, my clothes have unquestionably been defined by the role that I have chosen to take this year. However, a small person who when things are about to get messy is probably better off naked than clothed has had a very large influence in choosing each sartorial style for the day.

SIx months in and I think I know nothing!

On Friday June 6, it will be six months since I last spent a day in paid employment. Since then I’ve said I’m still working – I’m just not being paid for it. Here I am six months into being a stay at home dad and it has been a tremendous experience for me. For the last couple of days I have wanted to write a funny blog post that really points out that after the six months I am still like our dear friend Sergeant Shultz, “I know nothing!”

However, every time I have tried to write something (this is my fourth attempt now) either the words have failed me or H has interrupted me. For instance at lunchtime today, while H had his day sleep, I tried to get some ideas down. I was thinking especially of what I had dressed him in today. It was a bit cooler and rainy plus he had a runny nose and wet cough. I think what he was wearing (boots, jeans, long sleeve onsie with a t-shirt over the top and hooded cardigan) was actually right for his health and the conditions – that meant I should strike out my paragraph not knowing what to dress him in.

As I continued to ponder H coughing, then sobbing and then screaming disturbed me. Ok, I know that’s not normal so I went in and got him up. He was hacking up his lungs and I put my hand on the back of his neck and then on his stomach. They didn’t seem too hot but I used the thermometer to check anyway and it confirmed he didn’t have a high temperature. Ok I thought, my son is wheezing and coughing, clearly distressed and not well. I could give him some Panadol but he might not hold it down and that will mask a temperature if it spikes and I need to take him to the doctor.

The wheezing was my biggest concern and I thought it would be best to try our local GP who luckily enough had an appointment in 20 minutes. As I went to throw on my shoes after dressing H post sleep I put him down. He collapsed on the floor and continued to cough while giving me his most miserable look. That miserable look suddenly ceased though as he leant forward and threw up all the mucus he had obviously been swallowing. “Ok, good call,” I thought to myself, “We’re on the way to the doctor.” I quickly wiped H down, threw the dirty towel on top of the spew and walked out the door. My child is sick and I don’t know exactly what to do but I know I can get help. I must know more that nothing!

Once we got to the doctor the screaming and coughing continued, H put on a cracker of a show for everyone. However, his temperature had risen to 38.5 so good call on no Panadol to mask something as the doctor could get an indication of where he was at. I managed to get him calm enough for the doctor to listen to his chest for a few seconds by reciting his favourite books to him and playing with a toy car. Again – I must know something here.

As I dressed H to leave the doctors I didn’t put his long sleeve onsie on under his shirt. Why? Because again I know something and as he was running a spiked temperature it was better to keep him cool by removing a layer. I was really thinking at this stage, “I can’t write my blog about being useless and knowing nothing now.”

There I had been wanting to tell everybody about how I had been the comical stereotyped dad who bumbled his way through the first six months when really I was making decisions which were pretty good ones. When BWM came home from work and H was in the bath she looked at me and asked if I was ok after the afternoon that we’d just had. I thought about it and assured myself that yes I did know a thing or two because if I’d had this day three months ago, let alone six months ago, I would be sobbing in the corner calling for the bucket of wine. What that says to me is yes I’ve learnt a thing or two and we’ve got through the day. Here the day ends, not with me sobbing in the corner on the eve of me being six months into the job calling for a bucket of wine but with me writing my self-indulgent blog while sipping from my bucket of wine!