Who's a pretty boy, then?

Damian, Gene and Flynn won't thank their mummies for forcing them out in public in those Little Lord Fauntleroy outfits, says James Sherwood

Liza would be the first to tell you that life is rarely a cabaret for the sons and daughters of superstars. Monstrous talents with equally monstrous egos usually result in monstrous mothers, as personified by Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest. The child is lucky to be anything other than an extra, an accessory, or a mini-me. Instead of registering their children for Eton or Westminster, these days, famous families might as well put their children's names down for The Priory.

Liza would be the first to tell you that life is rarely a cabaret for the sons and daughters of superstars. Monstrous talents with equally monstrous egos usually result in monstrous mothers, as personified by Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest. The child is lucky to be anything other than an extra, an accessory, or a mini-me. Instead of registering their children for Eton or Westminster, these days, famous families might as well put their children's names down for The Priory.

Just one look at Elizabeth Hurley's son Damian at a village fete in Gloucestershire recently suggested trouble. The pudding-bowl haircut, neatly turned-down white ankle socks and buckle shoes would have most observers wondering why his mother was dressing the poor boy like a Franklin Mint doll. The white blouse with "When Did You Last See Your Father?" lace jabot made one want to reach for the phone and dial Childline.

Dressing your first-born like Little Lord Fauntleroy seems to be an occupational hazard for the famous. Rocco Ritchie, Flynn Macpherson, Gene Gallagher and Brooklyn Beckham have all been sighted in navy blazer, patent-leather sandal and short ensembles that resemble a warped episode of Stars in Your Eyes, in which "Tonight, Matthew, I'm going to be David Niven".

It would be forgivable if Mother Hurley was enjoying an off-duty day with her son. But no. Elizabeth and her first-born arrived at the fete in a black Bentley ready for their close-up. You have to ask yourself why she would wish to dress her son up like a Victorian greetings card for the benefit of the national press. What message was this dumb show trying to convey Surely Baby Gap combats and a Shrek 2 T-shirt would have sufficed?

When Damian was born, Hurley harrumphed: "It's disgraceful that I am surrounded by 10 grown men shoving their cameras in my baby's face every time I attempt to take him for a walk or to a friend's house." Dangling a child in a lace jabot and leather buckled shoes from your hip while cutting the ribbon to open a village fete is hardly a conscious effort to keep the child out of the limelight. And trust me, he won't thank you.

Frankly, Damian was doomed from birth. The very public paternity suit with the playboy Steve Bing made the child front-page news from the womb - it's not every boy whose baby photographs make the cover of Harper's Bazaar. And with godfathers such as Hugh Grant, Elton John and Henry Dent-Brocklehurst, Damian is probably the kind of child who will watch The Wizard of Oz for the first time and find it relatively dull. But will he forgive mother for that lacy shirt?

"Why spend the money on designer baby gear when mother could spend it on herself?" asks the fashion PR Samantha Denny-Hodson, who has a four-year-old son called Felix. "What I cannot abide is seeing a child under five being dressed like a 45-year-old man. The mini-me father-and-son look is disturbing; leave the pinstripe to fathers. Little boys want to dress like Action Man. If you can put them in Caterpillar boots, a pair of combats and a T-shirt, they're happy. There's nothing worse than trying to make your child trendy. If he's comfortable, he'll look cool."

Nicole Appleton and Liam Gallagher's decision to dress their son Gene in a pinstripe suit for the premiere of Shrek 2 must have been as far from comfortable as it is possible to be. Gene was photographed with his parents giving the peace sign. The look was completed with a head of ringlets, a hairstyle more reminiscent of a Botticelli cherub than the offspring of a rock star.

A shining head of bouncy curls has become de rigueur for celebrity sons; Brooklyn Beckham and Gene are just two of a handful of little boys to have been tressed to look like little girls. When the model Christie Brinkley's son Jack staged a tantrum on the red carpet, outside the Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban premiere in New York, recently, it was hard to know which was worse - being caught by the world's press for behaviour that he will almost certainly regret when he launches his rock career as a teenager, or for being forced by his mother to wear a hairstyle last seen on Christopher Robin.

Poor Rocco Ritchie had locks like Lady Godiva until he was three years old. In accordance with the hip quasi-Jewish religion kabbalah, Madonna and Guy agreed not to cut their son's crowning glory until he came of age. And where Madonna leads, the others always follow.

But it's Elle Macpherson's son Flynn who is arguably the most sartorially sinned-against child on the red carpet. Elle is, of course, a model, and her partner Arpad is a financier, and yet they choose to dress Flynn and his brother Cy as though they were the heirs to a small European principality. So correct is their attire, so stiff their posture that I would be extremely surprised if Cy and Flynn didn't turn to drag, drugs or even the kabbalah for comfort.

I, too, was at the mercy of fashion-forward parents during my early-1970s childhood. In their wisdom, Mum and Dad deemed five and a half mature enough to introduce me to the city of London. I made my debut dressed head-to-toe in blue satin. You could build up a reservoir of resentment for a parent who made you attend the Trooping of the Colour in a blue satin suit. But, on reflection, I think that suit was more T-Rex than Little Lord Fauntleroy, and rather appropriate for a fashion writer-in-the-making.

And as for the baby-blue peacoat with white collar and buttons that I am modelling opposite... I saw something very similar at the Dolce & Gabbana show last week in Milan, and it looked darling. You don't get the clothes you want as a child, because the choice is not yours. But sometimes - just sometimes - you get what you need.

Did that blue satin suit and baby-blue peacoat whet my appetite for a career in fashion? Possibly. Will Damian Hurley's lace jabot lead him to be a Catholic priest? Or a cancan dancer? Only time will tell.