I’ve mentioned before that I tend to think of myself as a laid back mother, slightly organic with a touch of spice. I breastfed both children until they were 12 months, but I had no problem giving them Gerber jarred food. I make sure homework and nightly reading gets done after school, but I also let them watch tv for an hour, maybe two, so I can read my book club selection. It seems, however, that raising a daughter is single-handedly turning me into a – dare I say – conservative, slighty neurotic mom.
I am sure from the title of this entry you can see where I am going with this blog.
There is no need for my daughter’s jeans to sit well below her waist. There is no need for my daughter’s T-shirts to read “tease”,” juicy”, “naughty” or “bite me”. And there is absolutely no need for my daughter to wear a padded push up bikini top. If we were having this conversation 15 years ago, I would have argued that it’s the parent’s responsibility to determine what their young daughter should wear. What has changed? I now have the young daughter that is begging me to buy her those jeans, that shirt and this bikini top. Shopping has become an errand I try to complete on my own unless I want to spend most of the trip arguing “fashion” with a 6-year-old.
This season alone, I have returned two swimsuits because my tongue hit the floor when my daughter tried them on. The idea of her at summer camp in those swimsuits made my stomach churn. I did eventually find “non- hoochie mama” swimsuits and clothes thanks to Speedo and The Children’s Place. Shame on you, Abercrombie & Fitch and Justice.
I have relative control over my daughter’s wardrobe for the forseeable future, but I imagine that the next 12 years are going to be long and loud. I am ready for the battle. To the boys in our house, take shelter.