My daughter said that would rather go to school naked than wear clothes that I picked out for her. I think she was kidding, but I didn’t want to test her. The last time we went shopping for clothes, she made me promise that I would only buy her clothes that she wanted, not clothes that I liked. Of course I told her that I would only spend money on clothes that I thought were appropriate for her to wear to school. I know that seems obvious, but nothing is obvious when you’re shopping with a pre-teen that wants to look good for her friends.
It used to be so easy shopping for clothes when she was a baby. I could pick out the cutest outfits with little pink bunnies on them with matching lacey bonnets and tiny little booties. She didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t argue with me at all. Of course, she couldn’t speak then but that was fine with me. I miss those days.
As she got older, it became apparent that we did not share the same tastes in clothes. I suppose I should be happy. I’ll never have to worry that she’s going to raid my closet looking for something to wear, unless she’s putting together a Halloween costume or something for an “Oldies Dance” at school.
I don’t mind that her tastes are radically different from mine. What does bother me is that her tastes seem to be dictated by Brittany Spears, Jessica Simpson, and whichever rockstar is currently considered cool by my daughter and her friends. (Though I’m sure that they don’t use the word cool any more – that’s so yesterday.) Why do these rock stars have to show off their tummies? I’m tired of telling my daughter that’s not appropriate for school attire.
It has become a major struggle. She wants clothes that will help her to fit in with her friends. I try to get her to pick clothes that actually cover her skin. “Mothuuur,” she moans and rolls her eyes when I pick out a cute matching shirt and pants outfit for her. “Nobody wears that,” she says. After hours of watching her try on school clothes, I begin to think that school uniforms are a great idea.
I suppose I should be glad that I don’t have a son. Many of my friends are fighting with their sons about their pants. It’s fashionable to buy pants so big that their underwear shows. At least I don’t have to deal with my daughter showing off her underwear. Not yet anyway – not until one of her idols decides to do it.
I have a plan to deal with this problem, but I’m going to need your help. If all the moms of America started to dress like Brittany Spears and Jessica Simpson, our daughters would be horrified. Suddenly bare midriffs wouldn’t be cool anymore. Girls would rush out to get clothes that would cover them so they wouldn’t look like us.
Are you with me? Are you ready to bare your skin for the good of our children? Let’s go and show off our tummies!
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