Our Statistician Is Marge Innovera

I had to go get Shae some new clothes yesterday, because she's growing like a weed and none of her pants fit any more. (Yes, I know this is boring.) This has been an ongoing problem for us, this "new clothes every six months" thing, because she's kind of a tomboy (or perhaps Mommy is projecting?) and nothing seems quite "right" because everything seems to be violently pink and overtly sexual, even for the toddlers.

I mean, really: in what particular circumstances, honestly, would a bare midriff and low-rise pants be appropriate on a two-year-old in October? Or ever, for that matter? (Guess who hates low-rise pants because OH MY GOD the sciatica? And also OH MY GOD the love handles?)

Anyway, we're lucky to have a designer outlet mall near us, and in one of the shops there, I saw this dress --

I really kind of dig it, but I opted not to get it. Now I think I might be regretting changing my mind, but I just don't know. (Go figure.) I was going to get a pair of gray stockings for Shae to wear under it (and I already have a pair of purple leggings from the same store which would also match), and she has this adorable pair of sparkly purple sneakers that she could wear with it.

But I think my husband will hate it (and he definitely won't know what to do with her hair). Since I won the pick-'em football pool this week, I am thinking about going back and picking it up with the cash.

(Incidentally, I think I could rock the shit out of this, because it's totally my cup of Earl Grey ... if they made it in my size, which of course they do NOT, because why should a woman with real hips and actual breasts be allowed to wear anything cute? FASCISTS.)

So ... ?