My second set of twins are both girls, and there are two of every stitch of clothing they own. Yes, TWO. Because as long as I have my say-so, they will match every single day for the rest of their little girl days, and I don’t have the slightest stitch of shame within me because of it.
And you know what else? If it weren’t so damn expensive to find matching boy/girl clothes, by golly, our oldest set of twins (boy/girl twins) would have matching clothing for every season and occasion too. But since they cost more than an arm and a leg put together, we steer clear of matching clothes except when the price is just right or I can’t help myself. Here’s an example of when I just couldn’t help myself (their fourth birthday).
Why do my kids matchy-match so much? Well, first of all, it is easier on me. WAY EASIER. And since they wear the exact same clothes, it’s actually cheaper for our family. Singleton moms probably do not know, but there are a ton of twin Facebook sites where you can buy gently-used, matching clothes for multiples.
And guess what? When my twins outgrow them, I can sell them again to another twin mom desperate for matching clothes, but also on a budget. Win-win! I’m one among many twin moms who enjoys dressing their littles alike, so we kind of join forces on this one and pass along clothes to one another.
But that doesn’t mean we don’t sometimes live life on the wild side and buy something that’s alike but in two different colors (freaking dare-devils). And if someone pukes on an outfit, you can bet your bippy that a twin mom will not be changing two babies if it isn’t necessary.
So as for me, it’s not my holy grail, but dressing my twins alike is something I enjoy doing most of the time.
As for those who disagree with this choice of mine, no need to voice your concerns. I already know that you think I’m cramping their personal sense of individuality, and I already know how sorry you feel for them. Those poor, well-dressed and always-matching kids. How dare I make them mirror one another more than they already do, dammit?! Well, sue me. Because you know what’s cuter than one baby dressed up as an owl?
TWO BABIES DRESSED UP AS OWLS, that’s what.
What’s cuter than one baby boy sporting the too-cute-for-words ’90s look? TWO OF THEM.
And guess what? I went to grade school, middle school and high school with those boys. Do they have a complex about being grouped together and dressed alike? NO. (Although I do remember them fooling all of us in the second grade with a tall-tale fib of their powerful and all-knowing twin-telepathy powers.)
And please, don’t even get me started on these darling identical twins, because I CAN’T EVEN with these two cuties. They are matching from the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their toes!
And what’s a mom to do when you have two sets of twins like me? You gather around for an all-matching two sets of twins photo-shoot. (Just don’t tell this mom she has her hands full. She knows, mkay?)
So do I dress my twins alike solely because of the way they look when they are both styling their adorable and matching outfits? YUP. I am guilty as freaking charged, and I’ll tell anyone who asks.
When my twins are a little bit older and can think more independently for themselves, then they may dress themselves in different clothes as they please — that is fine with me and I would never discourage it. It will be a sad day for my twin mommy heart, but they are their own person. I know this.
One twin is salty, and one twin is sweet. One likes to lay on my chest and the other likes to lounge on my lap. Twin A enjoys loud and crazy, and Twin B prefers soft and calm. They are not thought of as two that makes up one.
So please don’t remind me just how individual my twins are. If you do, I will only give you my best death glare with just a hint of a “NO SHIT?” attitude to go along with it. Nobody knows these kids better than me, especially some random stranger.
My twins look adorable when they are matching, and I already know that this stage in our lives will be short-lived. So just tell me how darling they are and quit trying to rob me of my joy.
This article was originally published on