Can you believe that I almost got rid of this shirt last year? In my defence, it was a little bit snug at the time, and I’d really rather not deal with sausage casing arm syndrome if I can help it. But, now, it fits again! Hurrah! This is, indeed, a wonderful thing because the print is lovely, and the red-blue colour combo is my jam.

Other people feel the same, judging by how much love this outfit got on Instagram. Posting OOTD photos on social media is an interesting experience; it can be hard to predict which outfits will make the biggest impact – sometimes I guess right, and sometimes … not so much. And then, of course, it’s interesting to observe how the public reaction (or lack thereof) changes (or not) my own feelings about an outfit. Outside of social media, we don’t usually get such immediate feedback on what we wear, so it’s easy to go about our business without feeling compelled to second guess our sartorial choices. Ultimately, I guess it’s fair to say that I’m sufficiently comfortable with my choices to willingly put my photos on the Internet for public commentary … but it’s an interesting experience, nonetheless.

A couple of days ago we had Ugly Chic, and now we have Toddler Chic. Up to about the knees, this is a regular sort of outfit; from the knees down, this is pure Teddy: brightly coloured tights and (non-matching) rubber boots. It’s what happens when the weather can’t decide what season it wants to be, and I get tired of wearing jeggings to the grocery store.

So, this is a cute combo except that the chambray dress has really bunchy sleeves, and I haven’t yet found the solution to avoiding the “mutton arms” look. Part of me wants to cut off the sleeves to help the layerability (not a word, don’t care) factor, but the other part questions whether that might be a cut-your-nose-to-spite-your-face situation. We usually look for sleeves in dresses, no? For what it’s worth, roll-tab sleeves are the worst of the lot, so if any sleeves deserve the chop, it’s these ones. Still, the weather being its unpredictable self in Edmonton, who knows when a sleeve – any sleeve – will come in (wait for it) handy.

Har har.

My puns are worse than a toddler’s, that’s for sure.