This morning, my "I'll be 16 next year" daughter flounced out of the house to meet some friends. It wasn't until she walked down the path that I noticed, from my 'just out of view spot' in the kitchen, that she was dressed from head to toe in my clothes - right down to the bag and the boots! Now, the fact that no permission was asked isn't the issue (although I will be bringing this up on her return). It's more the fact that I've just had this awful realisation that I may be dressing as a 14 year old girl!
It's fortunate we're similar sizes so she certainly didn't look like a bag lady. But for the life of me, I couldn't ever remember any desire whatsoever to rummage through my mother's wardrobe and throw on a pair of her slacks, or some sensible shoes. I've always thought of my mother as being well dressed, in an M&S kind of way, but her idea of style seems to consist of navy blue and comfort. Nothing wrong in that. But at 14 years old, I usually felt the need to wear as little as possible, despite potential arctic conditions coupled with the most ridiculous shoes.
I suppose working in an industry where most people are 12 doesn't help. I'm conscious that if I turn up in a twin-set and pearls, I might be forcibly marched of the premises but in turn, I'm mortified by the fact that I might have overstepped the mark with the leggings/baggy jumper combo that I donned yesterday.
So for the time being, I think I'll err on the side of optimism and assume that my daughter clearly sees me as a fashion icon with an eye for style. I, meanwhile, am currently without a pair of boots, leggings, a shirt, jacket and bag so am about to head off shopping wearing my son's sweatshirt and my husband's jeans. I also have clear instructions from my daughter to steer clear of the park. Well, dressed like this, I'm just an embarrassment.
Aren't I!
It's fortunate we're similar sizes so she certainly didn't look like a bag lady. But for the life of me, I couldn't ever remember any desire whatsoever to rummage through my mother's wardrobe and throw on a pair of her slacks, or some sensible shoes. I've always thought of my mother as being well dressed, in an M&S kind of way, but her idea of style seems to consist of navy blue and comfort. Nothing wrong in that. But at 14 years old, I usually felt the need to wear as little as possible, despite potential arctic conditions coupled with the most ridiculous shoes.
I suppose working in an industry where most people are 12 doesn't help. I'm conscious that if I turn up in a twin-set and pearls, I might be forcibly marched of the premises but in turn, I'm mortified by the fact that I might have overstepped the mark with the leggings/baggy jumper combo that I donned yesterday.
So for the time being, I think I'll err on the side of optimism and assume that my daughter clearly sees me as a fashion icon with an eye for style. I, meanwhile, am currently without a pair of boots, leggings, a shirt, jacket and bag so am about to head off shopping wearing my son's sweatshirt and my husband's jeans. I also have clear instructions from my daughter to steer clear of the park. Well, dressed like this, I'm just an embarrassment.
Aren't I!
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