My husband and I check out the new Marshalls. It’s obscene, the buys I find. Not so much for me as the kids.
I grew up with preppie parents. Loafers and argyle, polo ponies and buttondowns. I knew what khakis were when I was four. My dad pronounces it Kar-keys, though.
I fought the preppie when I was in my later years in high school. Wore stove pipe pants and bowling shirts.
My dad worried that I was turning bad.
I’m not a big labels person, mostly because I can’t afford The Row or Betsy Johnson or Marc Jacobs.
But I’m so excited to bring home some US Polo for my daughter, some Izod for my son. I rediscovered preppie years back. It’s in my blood. Can’t fight it.
I do find a giant bag for myself, made of woven material.
My daughter has yet to wear her polo pony dress. I might have bought it with my eyes, not hers.