Though media tells me "high-fashion" moms exist, I'm lucky to be wearing clean clothes, let alone designer ones. Check out this Pinterest board, where moms like me realize we're not alone.

A couple of years ago, I joined The Twitter. Though confused by the whole idea (What's with 140 characters?), I was more confused by some of the bios I read, particularly the ones that indicated some relationship between parenthood and fashion.

I'm paraphrasing, but they might say something like, "Fashionista mother of two, Los Angeles area, lover of couture and fine wine."

Or, "Mother in heels, looking fabulous."

Or, "I'm a mother, but I haven't lost my style. Follow me to learn what's hot among New York moms and kids."

Now, assuming I had some modicum of style before having children (and that is a vast assumption, I assure you), I'm pretty sure it disappeared after having them. I have nothing against "fashion," but it's just so far removed from the day-to-day reality of my life with three kids. My youngest was about 5 months old when I joined Twitter, and to be honest, wearing clean clothes was a win.

I could barely get myself dressed, let alone in something that would impress my friends' critical fashion palates.

Wearing "high-fashion" or designer clothing, was... well, I don't know. I've never really thought about it. Beyond not having the money for that sort of thing, the sheer logistics of my life negated the possibility. I could barely get myself dressed, let alone in something that would impress my friends' critical fashion palates.

Oh that's right. My friends don't have those. Thank God.

Anyway, you can imagine my joy when I came across this Pinterest board by Tiffany, who blogs at The Would-be Writers Guild. Following the antics of her imaginary, super-high-fashion toddler named Quinoa (yes, you heard that correctly — and yes, I kind of want to marry Tiffany), Tiffany manages to tastefully (and hysterically) illuminate the ridiculousness of the couture world as applied to children, at least for some of us.

By pulling photos from super-high-fashion magazines and websites (such as Fendi, Burberry, etc.) and matter-of-factly stating what Quinoa is up to based on those idyllic photos ("When Quinoa visits her cousin Harrington, they sit out by the sea with his pet rooster and play the piccolo."), Tiffany brings to the forefront the utter silliness of this constructed fallacy of a world as compared to the reality of most of our lives.

Not my reality

While it is infinitely pleasing to gaze at beautiful children in beautiful clothing in beautiful places, for me at least, there exists a seemingly endless chasm between that aesthetically blessed world and the maelstrom of chaos going on in my house.

allParenting son's fashion sense

My 11-year-old prefers to wear bows the size of her head, in bright colors. She also likes elbow-length gloves matched with very casual clothing, and she likes shoes without socks — which results in some seriously stinky feet. Not exactly Chanel inspired.

And then there's my boy, who's 7 years old. His clothes are all stained. On special occasions, he pulls together some of the most incredible outfits I've ever seen (photographic evidence provided at the right), and he certainly didn't get that from me. But that's like twice a year. On a daily basis, he's wearing a T-shirt and shorts — probably stained, potentially ripped and most likely from the thrift store.

Oh, yes. And then there's Georgia. Georgia is 2 years old, but she recently decided she's a 5-year-old boy. She likes fire trucks, sharks and bulldozers. Her favorite "fashion" items are her older brother's old pajama tops. Evidently, she also likes goggles.

That's if she wears clothes at all. Normally, there is no clothing. If I'm feeling ambitious and get her dressed, she often dumps water on her outfit about 3 minutes later, announcing, "Mama! I'm all wet! Gotta take my clothes off!"

Eventually, you just stop trying.

Some of us just don't get it

I feel like there are three ways to come at something like "designer clothes for kids." The first is that it comes naturally to you, financially and logistically — you just sort of "know" what looks good and your kids reflect that. Though I can't relate, I've met people with an aesthetic eye who just "get it" when it comes to clothing. Effortlessly, they're just doing their thing. These people usually have a genuine interest in and talent for the sartorial, and I'm impressed.

But then there are those of us who don't get it at all. We're, like, naturally uncool. We need our girlfriends to take us jeans shopping because we have no idea how to do it on our own. Not that I've ever done that.

And we don't have the money, and we don't really care.

Ah, but then there is Option 3: People who fake it.

And that, to me, is when it gets ridiculous. If you've got it, do it. But if you don't "got it," be real. Embrace that.

People who buy all the magazines, get a bunch of credit cards to buy the stuff they see in those magazines and scramble to be as cool as the aforementioned people who do it effortlessly.

And that, to me, is when it gets ridiculous. If you've got it, do it. But if you don't "got it," be real. Embrace that. Embrace your geek-hood, your lack of fashion sense. Be real with yourself, your kids and your friends.

Accept that we can't all be like Quinoa, with a finger on the pulse of the infinitely gorgeous, 24 hours a day. Um, understatement?

Georgia in goggles

And hold on tight to people on the interwebs like Tiffany, who are willing to remind us of the ridiculousness of the constructed world of "designer" parenthood, where Suri Cruise (and Quinoa) hang out and everything is beautiful, all the time.

Laugh at the idea that "designer" parenthood and Quinoa could ever exist at all, as if the lives of parents aren't messy and unfashionable and infinitely uncool on a regular basis (like yesterday, when my toddler shoved about 50 feet of toilet paper in the toilet, clogging it, and then my other kid didn't notice and went to the bathroom in that same toilet, and it wasn't pee). See? I told you. Uncool.

Quinoa would be appalled.

Now stop what you're doing and check out this Pinterest board, fall in love with Quinoa and Tiffany and suddenly feel good about your toddler in goggles.

Topics: pinterest