A Wardrobe War: Kim Scott and Eminem Clash Over Grandson Elliot’s Style
It was a crisp April morning in 2025 when Kim Scott arrived at Eminem’s Detroit home, a bundle of pastel-colored baby clothes in her arms. Her grandson, Elliot—born just three months ago to their daughter Hailie Jade and her husband Evan McClintock—was the light of her life. Kim had spent the past week shopping for outfits she thought would make Elliot look like a “little angel,” envisioning him in soft yellow onesies, tiny blue cardigans, and a fluffy white hat with bunny ears. But as she stepped into Eminem’s living room, her heart sank.
Eminem, whose real name is Marshall Mathers, sat on the couch, cradling Elliot in one arm. The baby was wrapped in a black blanket, dressed in a miniature gray hoodie and tiny black sneakers—more fitting for a hip-hop video than a nursery. A small chain necklace, a kid-sized replica of Eminem’s own, glinted around Elliot’s neck. Kim’s eyes widened in horror.
“Marshall, what is this?” Kim demanded, holding up a bright yellow onesie with a cartoon sun on it. “I told you I wanted Elliot to look cheerful, like a little ray of sunshine! You’ve got him looking like he’s about to drop a diss track!”
Eminem looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and defiance. “Kim, relax. He’s my grandson too. I’m just giving him some edge. He’s a Mathers—he’s gotta rep the family vibe. You think I’m gonna let him roll out in some fruity yellow getup? Nah, he’s gotta have that Detroit grit.”
“Grit?!” Kim’s voice rose, her hands clutching a pink baby outfit so tightly her knuckles turned white. “He’s three months old, Marshall! He doesn’t need ‘grit’—he needs to look adorable, not like he’s auditioning for your next music video! I want him in bright colors, something that makes people smile when they see him. This—” she gestured at Elliot’s outfit, “—this is a panic attack waiting to happen!”
The argument escalated quickly, echoing the fiery dynamic that had defined Kim and Eminem’s tumultuous relationship since the ‘90s. Though they’d divorced twice—first in 1999 and again in 2006—and had a rocky history, they’d reached a fragile peace in recent years, united by their love for Hailie and now Elliot. But this wardrobe clash was testing that truce.
“Kim, you’re overreacting,” Eminem shot back, adjusting the tiny hoodie on Elliot, who cooed softly in his arms. “He looks dope. I got this custom-made for him. You want him to grow up soft, wearing bunny hats and crap? He’s gotta be tough, like we were.”
“Tough?” Kim scoffed, tossing the pink outfit onto the couch. “We grew up in trailers, Marshall, dodging chaos. Elliot doesn’t need to be tough—he needs to be a baby! I want him in something cheerful, something that says ‘happy family,’ not ‘shady streets.’ You’re freaking me out with this nonsense!”
Eminem stood, gently placing Elliot in a nearby bassinet, and crossed his arms. “You always do this, Kim. You act like I don’t know what’s best for my own family. I’m not dressing him like some catalog kid. He’s got my blood—he’s gonna have my style.”
The room crackled with tension as years of unresolved friction bubbled to the surface. Kim’s vision of Elliot as a cherubic baby clashed hard with Eminem’s instinct to pass down his rebellious, streetwise aesthetic. But as their voices grew louder, Elliot let out a small cry, snapping them both out of their spiral.
Kim sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Marshall, I just want him to have a normal, happy start. Not the chaos we had.”
Eminem softened, glancing at his grandson. “I get that, Kim. But I want him to have a piece of me too. Let’s compromise—half the time he can wear your angel stuff, half the time he reps my style. Deal?”
Kim hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But no more chains on a baby, okay?”
Eminem smirked. “Deal. For now.”
As they sat down to sort through the clothes, Elliot gurgled happily, oblivious to the storm he’d sparked. For Kim and Eminem, it was another chapter in their complicated story—one they’d navigate, as always, for the sake of family.
