My sister’s baby is named Britain. He’s a munch, and a squeak, and will someone please explain why nonsense is the best way to explain how babies make us feel? I helped my sister get the nursery ready, and we decided to make his (considerable) wardrobe the star.
He inherited almost all of it from his big brother Rome, who was the best-dressed baby in the history of time (and who has also shared his clothes with Taylor, and Landon, and now Britain). So the investment has been appreciated, you see.
We used clothes as decor all over.
Kapri sewed blue over the pink trim on Scarlett’s curtains. (Hey, she has a new room, and it’s a doozy.)
A baby named Britain had to have a Union Jack pillow. We made this from vintage baby clothes.
I love baby clothes with things tucked in the pocket. It’s so adult.
And finally, here he is, modeling cable knit ensemble #14: Britain Brant, named for his daddy.
It is helpful that his eyes match his room.