Hanna Andersson: Bite Me.
Mood:  mischievious
Topic: Evil Things
I'm a well-known Hanna Andersson junkie. I'm a total sucker for those soft cotton knits and funky bold colors -- not to mention the Swedish angle (see IKEA). Their clothing is high quality and not at all what you would call cheap, unless you are the sort of person who pushes her baby about in a thousand-dollar pram, in which case shame on you, anyway.

My Hanna addiction began with a baby gift from one of Ben's Beverly Hills High/Berkeley buddies and his wife. Innocent enough: two cute little stripey baby suits. Except that I have been hooked from that moment onward, and today the entire family wears stripey Hanna things to bed.

All these years I've looked through the catalogs and sighed over the little girl clothes, which are to die for. I always figured it was a good thing I had boys and not girls. But now, of course, all that has changed. And Hanna Andersson, that conniving bitch, opened a retail outlet a few miles from my home last year.

Didn't take long, did it? Julia is nine days old today, and is the proud owner of the Hanna ensemble seen above. Even more reprehensible: Her Hanna outfit coordinates perfectly with the (yuppie? ghetto?) Juicy bowler bag I got for Mother's Day. I will not go into the details of the combined ticket price for these items, except to say that while the cost doesn't quite shock the conscience, it certainty startles the living hell out of it.

A little girl and the Hanna Andersson clothing line: It's a classic lethal combination, like booze and pills. I see a twelve-step program in my future, or at the very least, a whole lot of brightly colored, not-cheap little outfits in Julia's.