It turns out miserliness is in the genes, as my son’s choice of footwear reveals
Often, when I see nice clothes in the bougie shops near where I live, I entertain a mild fantasy of myself as one of those dads who garbs their child in cooler-than-cool threads. I don’t think that would be a particularly noble vice, of course, but naively imagine it could be one of those annoying eccentricities – like vaping or making jewellery – that people would forgive so long as I occasionally made fun of myself for it.
The only problem with this ambition is that freelance life has turned me into a miser, unwilling to buy any children’s clothes that aren’t made in runs of 40,000. When some snazzy jumper or beautiful hat catches my eye, I’ll invariably discover it’s priced as if it was hand-woven instore, by Richard & Judy. I don’t buy these items. No - like you, I place them back on the rack and, gripped by some odd horror that I will appear cheap, continue a discretionary period of fake ‘browsing’ to disguise my eventual exit, presumably out of a fear that the staff will know that the £79 price tag on that pair of mittens just made my soul leave my body.
Continue reading...from Lifestyle | The Guardian https://ift.tt/2qpEUBX