From Stylin' Single To Discount Daddy - change in clothes purchasing habits of men who become fathers - Brief Article - Column

Ebony, June, 2001 by Kevin Chappell

IS this what I have become?" I thought to myself as I stood in the dressing room and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I went to the mall in search of something to wear to a concert. What I ended up assembling looked like something straight out of an old episode of The Cosby Show. I put together an entire outfit, shoes and all, for $67.95. I looked so out of fashion that I was a colorful sweater and a clean joke away from passing for the '80s Cliff Huxtable. Too bad it's 2001.

I had a shirt that was half-price, pants that were on clearance, a tie that was marked "as is," shoes that I swear were squeaking "cheap, cheap" every time I took a step, and a sports coat that had a red sticker, which had been placed on top of a yellow sticker, which had been placed on top of a blue sticker. (In other words, it wits one sticker away from the scrap heap because no one wanted it--that is, until I came along.)

What was once a simple task was now a mission impossible. I used to be a spontaneous Brother, always on top of the fashion game. If I saw something, and it was hot, I bought it. Didn't think much about it. Didn't have to. But now that I'm married and the father of two, the game has changed.

I used to buy silk boxers. Now I buy diapers. I used to buy' gators. Now I buy booties and ice skates and roller blades that are too small and have to be replaced every three months. I used to buy classy suits, now I'm preparing to pay for private school. I used to be designer-down. Now I'm discount daddy, a father forced into frugality, a low-maintenance man wearing yesterday's fashions, calculating family budgets, pinching a penny here, stretching a dollar there.

When you're a father, "Who needs what this week?" becomes your mantra. When you're a father, you get so used to putting yourself last, you could easily get mistaken for one of those new cars, you know the ones that can go 100,000 miles without a tune up. Daddy needs something? Nah, he's just daddy. He's okay. Just feed him--just keep the old man's tank full, and he'll be fine.

It's only around this time of the year, around Father's Day, that we get thought of at all.

While Sisters make the same sacrifices, they still--to a large extent--keep some semblance of who they were before marriage and motherhood. A woman is treasured from her wedding day--the day she wears an expensive, sequined-studded, designer wedding dress--cut to her specifications, a keepsake she can treasure forever. She parades down the aisle before being presented with the fat diamond ring. The Brother, on the other hand, wears a rented tux that he had better get back to the store the next day, and is given an inexpensive wedding band.

In fact, if a father's sacrifices were made into one of those reality television shows, it might be too painful to watch. The first episode would follow 10 impulsive Brothers totally into themselves, living life to the fullest, acting on whims, thinking nothing of blowing fistfuls of dollars on a new leather jacket, a new pair of Jordan's, tickets to a ball game. Their only objective--self-gratification. And they're good at it, real good. By the final episode, one Brother is standing. He's married, fathered children and is wearing some old, beat-up penny loafers. The credits roll as he fades off into the distance, pushing a buggy through the grocery store, mumbling something about double-coupon day. This is followed by three minutes of commercials extolling the virtues of being young and hip and spontaneous.

After all, society teaches us from the time we are young the importance of being fashionable, sporting the trendiest clothes, and driving the car that we want to drive. If we want it, get it, because we deserve it, and it's going to make us feel good. That's the message, and rarely is an opportunity missed to repeat it over and over again.

Indeed, much is made of finding satisfaction through consumption. But not much is ever said about finding satisfaction through sacrifice. It's an odd concept, one that is hard to imagine if you've never experienced it. But it's a concept that many fathers--particularly Black fathers--uniquely understand.

Throughout our history, our fathers have always sacrificed, did without, worked two jobs and a hustle on the side to make ends meet. They did it because they realized back then what good fathers realize now--that a father, successful in caring for his family, seeing after their well-being and happiness, has got something special, something that money can't buy.

While fatherhood and family life come with many sacrifices, sacrifices that don't feel particularly noble at the time you're making them, in the end, you don't mind. You don't mind putting your family first. You don't mind forgoing something that you may want so that they won't have to. You don't mind calculating and budgeting, coupons and discount stores.

When a good father looks at himself in a dressing room mirror, he doesn't see a Brother wearing out-of-date fashions at marked-down prices. When he looks into that mirror, he sees a father and a husband who is down with doing whatever it takes to make his mark on the greatest institution in the world--the family.