May 2, 2015

The Price Of Freedom Is Eternal Vigilance

Here is a mom who's trying to run away from brands, but I think she's really trying to run away from herself:

I couldn't resist buying her a cheap nylon set of Wonder Woman PJs, cape and all. Then I bought her a pair of Nike tennis shoes, conspicuous "swoosh" and all. I felt bad but also simply had to buy the Keith Haring-branded leggings, although I felt that Keith Haring himself would have been somewhat ambivalent if he had known he was designing baby gear from the grave. "Me too, Keith," I thought as I paid for the leggings, throwing in the matching t-shirt, the words "Dance All Day" across the front, right above Mr. Haring's iconic signature.

But it quickly gets worse once you invite the brands in the front door, and now I am powerless to stop it. I don't even care, I sometimes tell myself. About a month ago, on a rare trip to Target, we purchased a tiny Frozen coloring book for Zelda.

I say let it go.

My Daughter, Brand Amabassador [theawl]

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