Two-Foot-Tall Fashion Police

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Last Friday night my two gals were doing what they like: getting all dolled up to have a dance party in the living room. The outfit choices are mind-blowing: undergarments on the outside of your clothes; tutus as headbands; fairy wings, karate belts and various animal hats (wolf, penguin, duck). Plus, they need “noisy shoes,” which means high heel ones from my closet. Oh, my poor, sad shoe collection…it used to be my awesome ‘80s geometric print Miu Mius went to say, the soft opening of a hip new restaurant or a film premiere. Now they get bashed about by tiny little legs who think they need “more sparkle,” and, if they are lucky, wind up discarded somewhere under the couch when they prove too difficult to wear during the Hokey Pokey.


So as I’m watching all the preening go down, the three-year-old comes over proud as a peacock of her insane ensemble, and gives me the once-over. Then she flashes me a look — straight out of Mean Girls and says, “Mama, you don’t look dressed for a dance party.” Ouch. I suppose this would sting even more if the party weren’t happening in my living room — a circumstance that I regard my slippers, jeans and T-shirt totally appropriate for. I don’t know how it happened, but my little ones have a strong sense of fashion dos-and-don’ts. Even the toddler isn’t afraid to tell me my wardrobe choices aren’t up to snuff and she can’t even really talk yet. The other day as I went to put on an old hoodie, she hobbled across my bedroom (she was, of course, wearing her sister’s sparkly shoes, two sizes too big for her) and handed me a different sweater. Then she stamped her sassy feet in protest when I didn’t take her advice. Even my husband’s outfits must pass through the rigors of the two-foot-tall fashion police. “You don’t look like you are going on a date,” my older daughter said to him as she “helped” him get ready the other night. “You look like you are staying home.” He changed, of course. Catch up with all of Andrea’s posts HERE. And for all you fashion-forward types — your mini mes, included — may we suggest a rocking onesie or T to strut about town in?


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