I’m about to type words I actually never expected to come from me.
I think my daughter and I need matching outfits.
I mean, come on, look at them. They’re adorable in their matching floral dresses, bouncing around a fancy balcony in Paris.
Actually… now that I think of it… my almost two-year-old and I could try it if we wanted to.
We have matching dresses. Now all we need are the tickets to Paris. Excuse me while I webjet.
Okay, but for real.
Mummy daughter matching fashion. Up until Beyonce and Blue Ivy's foray into the exercise, I'd have previously said it was a massive fashion faux pas.
The four times Beyonce proved herself to be a fearless, feminist icon. Post continues...
Admittedly, I'm sitting at my desk in snow white connies and dark blue jeans which basically makes me Jerry Seinfeld so what would I know?