The Tale of the Fashion Wars

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The other day, my daughter chose to wear these competing polka dot patterns. Another blog I follow would suggest that wearing two different polka dot patterns is all the rage, so perhaps my daughter is on the cutting edge, but I’m not sure she’s quite got it here – or that we’re living in the right part of the world for that sort of fashion-forward thinking.

I honestly believed that my daughter and I wouldn’t wage war over clothing choices until she was at least part way through elementary school. I thought we’d be good until about Grade 5 or 6, and then it would ramp up and be at it’s worst during high school. Even then, I would be the cool Mom who ‘totally gets’ what the kids are wearing and helps her daughter keep up with trends while still looking modest and presentable (the odds of this are diminishing as I am sometimes baffled by what ‘the kids are wearing these days’. And then I feel old. And then I feel depressed. And then I eat chocolate and watch the skinny jeans slip away from being a possibility for me. Sigh).

But somewhere between age 2 and 3 it all began. Her first revolt was capris (“I don’t want those short pants”). Then she fixated on a hideous hand-me-down shirt that was too big (and not from our usual source which I will describe later). Finally, she became convinced that matching means both top and bottom are the same colour. How do you explain “matching” to a 3-year-old? It’s 2012 – weren’t we all supposed to be wearing the same coloured one piece suits by now? Have we learned nothing from sci-fi literature and movies? That would just make my life so much easier…

I greatly mourn the fabulous outfits I could make from the hand-me-downs from her cousins (my sister-in-law has such good taste in clothing, I want her to dress me). Sometimes, I can get her into an outfit of my choosing, often we compromise, and sometimes I would really like to slap an “I dressed myself today” button on her.

I suppose I should be grateful for her growing independence and respect her desire for self-expression. But, if I can’t dress her up in great clothes that proudly proclaim her unarguable cuteness, what was the point in having kids?

How do the fashion wars play out at your house?

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