How we dress our children reflects how we see ourselves as parents. For a hip mum in the late 1960s or early 70s, a daughter dressed in a miniature Biba halterneck top with matching wide trousers and headband, or a tiny son in folky, crazy-coloured Clothkits dungarees was an instant way to send a clear message.
To modern eyes the little girl in the stripy Ungaro coat looks eerily Vogue-ish and womanly. But the historical context is important here. The mini-me phenomenon was a reaction to the old-fashioned, seen-and-not-heard style of nursery-wear that preceded it. Dressing children in a more grown-up way was meant not to end their childhood freedoms, but to acknowledge that children were people too.
I was a Clothkits kid myself, resplendent in red and purple heart-print sundresses with matching knickers. Now that I have my own children, three decades later, fashion has made an about turn. Mini versions of adult fashion have become the norm. Baby boys wear pre-faded jeans, while tiny girls wear fake-fur gilets and slogan T-shirts.
As ever, those who consider themselves one step ahead reject this look, in one of two ways. On one hand, every festival this summer had Bugaboo-pushing parents taking the mini-me trend to a tongue-in-cheek extreme, with babies dressed in tiny versions of vintage Ramones T-shirts and mini Converse.
Meanwhile, in the most fashionable cafes, there is a burgeoning craze for dressing children in the very traditional French label Bonpoint. Little girls wear double-breasted coats in crisp poplin, while boys are once again in knickerbockers. The only thing certain is that the children currently dressed like junior members of a 1950s European royal family will dress their own children in the polar opposite.