I have a five-year-old daughter and, like with all children, shes managed to outgrow half her wardrobe in what feels like two minutes. Were talking nearly new dresses, jackets, shoesthe lot. Most of these things have only seen the light of day two or three times, all because children seem to sprout overnight. Im not one for clinging onto clothes for the memories, so last weekend, I thought I might as well have a good clear-out. I calmly sat myself down, emptied the wardrobe, and sorted through every item, piece by piece. Anything still in top condition went in one pile; the restwith stains, holes or a suspiciously lived-in lookwent straight to the bin. Im not about to hand off my cast-offs to someone and call it a favour. That much is clear.
Naturally, I thought of my niecemy sister-in-laws little girl. Shes nearly four, always dressed simply, sometimes in the same outfit on repeat. Its not that her family is struggling; its more that my sister-in-law doesnt seem fussed about childrens fashion. I didnt make a song and dance about it. I just filled a sturdy bag with some cracking bitslovely dresses, practically new sets, a jacket my daughter had worn just twice, and some shoes that were barely broken in. Not a single tired-looking jumper or worn out pair of tights in sight. I washed everything, folded it all neatly, and gave her the bundle with a smile:
These dont fit my Isabelle anymore, but theyd be perfect for your Emily.
She smiled, thanked me, and I honestly thought, job well done. Two days later, though, subtle weirdness started up. My mother-in-law texted out of the blue asking why I was showing off with clothes and making the family uncomfortable. Then, at a family get-together, my husbands cousin gave me a look youd reserve for someone who brings their own Tupperware to a Christmas party, and didnt greet me like usual. I was completely lost.
Soon enough, another sister-in-law let me in on the gossip: apparently, the mother of the child had gone round telling anyone whod listen that Id humiliated her, delivering leftovers as if she was hard up, and prancing round flashing my wealth in carrier bags. Shed even claimed I swanned in with sacks just to parade around. When I heard that, I felt not just upset but genuinely furiousabsolutely none of it was true.
Then, things got a notch worse. At Sunday lunch shortly after, my sister-in-law made a snide remark, with the subtlety of a marching band, in front of everyone:
Some people think handing out second-hand clothes is helping, but really it just insults people.
You could have heard a pin drop. My husband stared at me, my mother-in-law said nothing, and the air was thick with awkwardness. It was suddenly obvious to all that shed been steering these family narratives.
So, without raising my voice but with as much backbone as I could muster, I told her and everyone else that I hadnt given her any tatty old garments, but only picked the best. That Id actually binned most of my daughters things and, if nice clothes for her child were so offensive, I simply wouldnt offer next time. I added that I wasnt about to be painted as some awful person when all Id done was think of her child.
Since then, the atmosphere at family dos has been frosty, to put it mildly. My sister-in-law barely speaks to me beyond a curt hello. My mother-in-law tries to act Switzerland, but its awkward as can be. And Im left with that familiar, sour feelingyou do something with the best intentions, and somehow end up in a family feud you never asked for.
So, what do you lot think about all this?
