Why dress-up days should be outlawed

First, let me just say that Son2 loves to dress up, and finds it a big thrill to go to school in anything other than his navy-blue shorts and pinstriped, button-up shirt. In his closet, you’ll find plenty of costumes depicting numerous genres, from spiderboy to alien, vampire and terrorist. Yes, you read that correctly: he came downstairs this weekend looking like this:

Erm, DH: What was Santa thinking?

Erm, DH: What was Santa thinking?

But every time the school announces a special theme day, I have to admit my heart sinks a little bit. I can’t sew; if you handed me a piece of fabric I’d have no idea what to do with it; and the prop that would accessorise an outfit perfectly is never just lying around the house. It’s usually buried at the bottom of a cupboard, lost, broken or still in the shop.

And I’ve come to realise that this is a universal problem: there’s my good friend in London who had to come up with “a simple homemade fez” – with a tassel. (“We want the tassels to swirl when the children dance,” the teacher said.) Then there’s the kind commenters on my blog who’ve dressed their child up as a triangle and seriously considered crocheting a pilot’s hat after trawling the mall and finding nothing.

Oh yes, we mums do try when faced with these challenges – because you just know that there will be crafty mothers who got straight onto Pinterest. Not to mention that on, say, Book Character Day, school will be invaded by a mini fictional force made up of Harry Potter, Dr. Seuss, Angelina Ballerina and other favourite storybook characters. The look on your child’s face if their outfit is a laughing stock is enough to make any otherwise sane mum start cutting up the curtains.

I’ve even heard of dads having to get in on the act too, in some cases taking over as costume-deviser extraordinaire, and sewing! Another friend tells me her DH is the go-to person for dress-up days; for an Easter Bonnet parade, he constructed a spring hat with a giant carrot protruding from the top, which we were all still talking about the next year – a pilot by profession, creative genius in his spare time.

In the Circles household, given enough notice, I’m able to dispatch DH to a costume shop in New York on one of his trips here (yes, we cheat, big time!); and he came up trumps last term, with a ghoulish-grey Area 51 costume and mask for the day aliens landed on the playing field at Son2’s school.

The news that today would be African Explorer Day came a week ago, just as the reality of getting back to the grind was hitting, and saw me arguing vehemently with Son2 at 7 this morning over why he couldn’t take that stonking big nerf gun pictured above into class (huntsman, explorer, it was all the same to him).

As we got out of the car, Son2 – donned in hurriedly assembled safari-type garb and wearing binoculars round his neck – got cold feet. No-one was in costume! Mum must have got it wrong! (I hadn’t, it was only for his year). I did wonder for a moment – until, at the gate, we saw a stressed-looking mum with a teary, uniform-clad child, being asked by a teacher if they had anything at home resembling the mishmash my son was wearing. As she headed off (upset boy in tow) to figure it out, I ’m sure she must have wished dress-up days could be outlawed too.

The working mum’s costume fail

Tomorrow is book character day at school – the day school is invaded by a mini fictional force made up of Harry Potter, Dr. Seuss, Angelina Ballerina and other favourite storybook characters.

Sigh.

It’s all part of book week, during which we’re invited to send in money so our kids can spend it at a book fair (or attempt to buy crisps instead, as I suspect my son might try), take part in the Gazillion Minutes of Reading @ Home initiative (okay, it’s a million, not gazillion) and come up with a costume for the dress-up day.

Don’t get me wrong. I do think all this is great – I absolutely love reading, and trying to impart a love of reading to my sons has been really rewarding, as has watching BB learn to read.

It’s the dress-up part that’s bothering me. Because tomorrow BB will go to school wearing a pair of too-small yellow plastic trousers (part of an old fireman’s outfit), a T-shirt emblazoned with a train and a kids’ pilots hat – the dishevelled assembled sum of which is meant to make him look like a steam train driver from his Flying Scotsman book.

Not an accurate depiction of the blogger

Not an accurate depiction of the blogger

Even he knows it’s a crumb-y costume. And I know there will be outfits that mums will have spent ages making. Costumes that originated from Pinterest and were then lovingly hand sewn and accessorised.

Still, it’s not that I didn’t try. I’m just having a crazy busy week, with a new freelance job (ironically, for the PR company handling the Sharjah Children’s Reading Festival, which we dragged the boys to this weekend and STILL failed to come home with a suitable book) and I haven’t had a spare minute.

After work today, I sped into our local bookstore, practically setting the paperbacks alight, to try to buy a Fireman Sam book, to go with the old fireman costume I knew was hanging in the cupboard (they not only have to dress up, but also take the book in).

“Do you have Fireman Sam?” I asked the man in the bookshop hopefully.

“No,” he replied after glancing briefly at his computer screen.

“How about any book about firemen, perhaps?” I tried.

“No, nothing,” he said, shaking his head (and I’m sure he laughed, sensing my desperation).

I tried to persuade BB he could wear his Halloween costume instead. “Look, we can use a pen to colour in the skeleton so it looks like a normal pirate’s outfit,” I trilled, as he looked on glumly.

“Or maybe your brother’s spiderman top will fit.”

“That’s a film, mum.”

“I want to go as a dog,” he finally said, getting excited at last. “Floppy the dog from my phonics book. Can you make a dog costume? Please, mummy, please make me a dog suit?”

And mums who work and also leave things like this to the eleventh hour will know exactly what the answer to that request is.