I don't know about you, but nothing makes me want to knit a darling little top and bottom like the image of a mysterious disembodied baby head. . .
~ ~ shimmer-shimmer dream effect à la vintage TV shows ~ ~ ("Vintage" because maybe I'm missing it, but they hardly ever seem to use the shimmer-dream transition effect in current programs, which is kind of sad, actually. . .) ~ ~
"Ok. So we've got a photo of the baby jacket. . . and these. . . What would you call these, Bob? Bloomers?"
"I don't know, Dave. I always kinda thought bloomers were more frilly or somethin'. . ."
"Well, whatever they are, we've got a photo of them. These look like baby clothes, don't ya think? I mean, I can't picture anyone with an ounce of autonomy wearing these things, can you? And then there's that nifty (and might I add, rather cleverly worded) line of text: 'Just for Baby'. . ."
"Some of your finest writing there, Dave."
"Thank you, Bob, thanks a lot. But back to the point-- Do you think it's obvious enough that this is baby knitwear? Is there anything we could do to make sure there's no possible doubt that it's meant for a baby? I mean, we don't want to be irresponsible here and accidentally start a hideous new fashion trend among grown women."
"Hm. I s'pose we could always get a photo or a cute line drawing of a baby."
"True, true. We could do that. Or-- and here's what I'm thinking-- we slap the image of a disembodied baby head up here in the corner. Whaddya think?"
"You've done it again, Dave!"
That gauzy wisp of fabric around the bottom of the head-- the way it hides the baby's mouth from view so you can't tell if she or he is smiling, cooing, or gaping in horror-- is the perfect finishing touch.