A cheery new picture book stars a girl who has a vision for the suit she wants to wear, complete with tie and slicked-back hair; another one stars a boy who loves to dance in a tutu!
The Spectacular Suit, by Kat Patrick and illustrated by Hayley Wells (Scribble US), is a cheery delight. Frankie is having a big birthday party and inviting everyone in her school. Her whole family is helping to get ready. The most important thing to Frankie, however, is what she is going to wear. Frankie hates the three dresses her mom picked out. Her big sister suggests she just wear her favorite sweater. Her big brother doesn’t understand the fuss.
Frankie, however, knows that she wants to look spectacular, and not in a dress or sweater. She wants a spectacular suit. Not an ordinary suit, but one that “would take you places”; one with “lightning bolts and stars and style.” She draws this out on a piece of paper, but has no idea where to get a suit like that “or how to ask for one,” especially since the party is the next day. She tries not to cry as she tries on a sweater over one of the dresses.
Her mother, however, is watching her quietly, and after Frankie leaves the room, picks up her discarded drawing. She shares the sketch with Frankie’s siblings, and they all get to work. The brother contributes a suit jacket; the sister cuts up some old shirts into stars and lightning bolts. The mom sews everything together.
Frankie wakes up the next day not even wanting to get out of bed—until she sees something hanging on her dresser. A suit that “looked exactly like Frankie felt: like a powerful, stormy sky.” She tries it on, and we see a full-spread image of her flying across an imaginary sky full of Van Gogh-style swirls.
She then adds her own touches to the ensemble: lace-up boots, a silk tie, and a spring of orange peel and lavender in her pocket. Her brother lends her his hair wax to slick back her hair; her sister gives her a pair of sunglasses.
Frankie still has a moment of nerves, wondering if the suit is a good idea, but her family assures her she looks “spectacular.” Everyone at the party agrees. The party guests include one child who reads as male or nonbinary, wearing a skirt, and a two-dad family.
There’s a lot to like about this book, not only because there are relatively few picture books about gender creative girls. I love Frankie’s clear vision of what she wants and Patrick’s wonderful description of how the suit makes her feel. I love the fun little details throughout the story, like Frankie’s brother making sure there are three jars of extra-crunchy pickles for the party, per Frankie’s request. I also appreciate that no one teases or questions Frankie about wanting to wear a suit. Once her family realizes her wish, they show unconditional support. Wells’ limited-palette drawings, heavy on orange, yellow, and blue, are as bright and bold as Frankie herself.
This book is sure to charm any kid with a sense of their own style (and maybe a few of their grown-ups, too).
Téo’s Tutu, by Maryann Jacob Macias and illustrated by Alea Marley (Dial), is a joyous book about a gender creative boy who loves to dance. As the story opens, we see that Téo is a little nervous on his first day of ballet class. He enjoys dancing to cumbia and bhangra music at home (reflective of his dad and mom’s Columbian and Indian heritage, respectively), but ballet is different. His parents support him, however, and remind him of how excited he was to see Swan Lake. Wearing a pink tutu, he sits down with the rest of the children, two other boys and two girls. One boy in the class asks, “Why are you wearing that?” to which he responds, “Because it’s pretty.” The teacher comments that she wishes she had one like that.
Téo practices with the other students and learns that he must first master the simple steps before trying more difficult leaps. Week after week he learns more. It’s hard, but he keeps trying, and his happiness in doing so is clear.
One day, the teacher announces that the costumes for the recital have arrived. She lets each child pick their own costume. Téo wants to choose a leotard with a flowery tutu, but “felt everyone’s eyes on him” as he chose it. He picks up a shirt and pants, too, and puts both costumes into his bag. When he tries on the shirt and pants at home, they don’t feel right—too plain and stiff. The leotard and tutu, however, are stretchy and cloud-like. He wonders, though, if the audience will love him in it.
His parents support his choice and encourage him to be brave. He reflects on how good he feels when he dances. At the theater, the teacher tells him he looks perfect. The performance goes splendidly, and everyone cheers.
In some picture books about gender creative boys, the questioning of the protagonist’s clothing or hobbies is harsher or even leads to bullying. Not so here, although Téo is clearly aware that he is doing something out of the ordinary. What shines through in both the text and the softly adorable illustrations are his parents’ and teacher’s support and his love of dance.
