My four-year-old wore this Cabbage Patch costume to preschool, and another mom pulled me aside to say it was “culturally insensitive.”
I froze.
I’d spent two weeks making that costume — crocheting the yarn wig to match the exact shade of brown as her favorite Cabbage Patch doll from my own childhood. The doll my mom saved from 1985. The one my daughter now carries everywhere and calls Baby Sarah.
When she told me she wanted to be her doll for Halloween, my heart melted. I found her the perfect shirt, tied purple ribbons in her yarn pigtails, and watched her beam in the mirror, spinning in circles saying, “I look just like Baby Sarah!”
At preschool, she was so proud — until that moment. Another mom pulled me aside, said something about “mockery” and “knowing better,” then walked off before I could respond. My daughter squeezed my hand and whispered, “Why is that lady mad?”
I told her some people forget that love — especially a child’s love — is simple and kind. That dressing like her favorite toy isn’t wrong; it’s joyful.
We went for ice cream, still in costume. Strangers smiled, told her how adorable she looked. One older woman teared up, saying it reminded her of her granddaughter’s first Cabbage Patch doll back in 1983.
Since then, my daughter’s worn that costume three more times — to the grocery store, to Grandma’s house, even to bed once because she couldn’t bear to take it off.
That other mom hasn’t spoken to me since. But every time I see my little girl twirling in that yarn wig, I’m reminded that childhood doesn’t need our outrage. It just needs room to be innocent, creative, and full of love.
📷 : Unknown (respective owners)