Top of my cool list, though, is my daughter. I'm not sure if it's down to me or she just manifests this shit all by herself but people tell me she's cool, they very rarely call me cool.
Take Saturday, for instance. She got invited to and attended the Mr Men Little Miss x House of Holland launch in Liberty. And she met Henry Holland, you know... Of 'DO ME DAILY CHRISTOPHER BAILEY' slogan fame (he's known for other cool stuff too). She got her hair and nails done, as well as a little miss tattoo (fake, haters, FAKE) and then went and bagged herself a shitload of goodies. SHE'S THREE AND A HALF for christ sake. I am jealous of my own child.
Lusting after this bomber
Her clothes are cool, her toys are cool and her mates are cool and her attitude.... Well it's a mix of garbage truck and... Cool. 'Mum can we sack off nursery this week and go to London instead' those were actual words that came out of her actual mouth. I don't even know who she is anymore. I feel like I'm not worthy of the child I tried and failed to birth out of my vagina. She's just too damn cool for me.
But she's not alone. Turns out her generation are all like this. Her mate R has got shit hot style, she totally out outfitted me at a recent party and shrugged the whole thing off. SHE'S NOT EVEN FOUR. And then there's B, so much sass with the best dressing up box and she just pushes the trolley around the supermarket filling it up with shit she wants. SHE KNOWS what she wants. How do these tiny little people know what they want? I don't even know what I want.
But the whole time my child is outwitting me, out dressing me and filling her calendar with social events, she still thinks I'm cool.
So the moral of this story is, you might think so and so is cool, but I bet they think you're cooler.
You can see the new HOH Mr Quiffy collection here.
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