No thanks, Nordstrom

A high school boyfriend accused me of over-thinking things. A high school religion teacher made me feel like less of a freak by telling me you can't ever think too much. 

My boyfriend was a jock. The teacher was a philosopher. 

I learned over the next 20 years that the truth, for me anyway, falls between the two extremes. 

I thought about the two guys and their advice for me this week after I turned down a chance to let the girls walk in a kids' fashion show at Nordstrom. The sales lady told me about the event when I bought Easter dresses for Esme and Josephine. 

"It will be fun," she said. "Do you want them to be in it?"

I have to admit: I thought about it briefly. Josephine loves to play dress up. Esme too, though her outfits lean toward the outlandish while Josephine favors the operatic. Think Tim Burton vs. Walt Disney. 

They would totally dig the chance to put on pretty clothes and strut the catwalk. The sales lady was right. It would be fun.

But....

I couldn't shake the icky thoughts of child beauty pageants - artificial, over-glammed kids and their competitive parents with grossly misplaced priorities. Or the crass commercialization of the affair. Because let's face it: there's a reason Nordstrom puts on the shows and it's not to celebrate fashion or showcase creativity. They want to sell clothes. 

Five minutes earlier, Josephine was fingering dresses on the rack. "I want this one. I want this one. I want this one." The more frills, rhinestones, purple and pink, the better.

I was aghast. Not at our difference in taste but by the gimme, gimme, gimme. 

I thanked the sales lady but declined the offer. "I think it would send the wrong message to them," I said.

I used to be a fashion snob. Used to see it as a silly pursuit of vain and shallow people. Thankfully, I evolved. Surprisingly, it took children and an adolescent to change my mind. 

From Josephine and Esme, I've learned how clothes can be transformative, expressive, empowering. That they can trip the imagination and transport people to different worlds. 

It was another young girl, Tavi Gevinson, a 13-year-old fashion phenom from Chicago, who helped me see fashion can be complex and rich. That designers create art, not just accessories. 

"Dress however you please and embrace rude stares," she told Teen Vogue. "It means that what you're wearing isn't boring."

She blogs at Style Rookie and if you've never heard of her before, prepare to be blown away. By her crazy smarts. Her talent. Her confidence and maturity. 

The point is, I understand that fashion shows can be fun and I would consider myself a wildly successful mother if one of my daughters followed in Tavi's footsteps. But I stand by my decision to pass up the department store fete. 

So, was my high school boyfriend right? Did I over-think it? Or did my teacher get it right and I failed to consider it thoroughly? 

How about we say I struck a happy balance and call it a day? Ok? Done.

Comments

[One of The Guys]

I've also been accused of over-thinking. Of course I used to be a jock too, so I'm not sure what that's all about. Maybe I accused myself!! More than likely.........anyway......

My wife has a friend, who on several occasions has inquired about our daughter and modeling. Our gut reaction is, "That sounds pretty cool and fun." But after that initial reaction all that comes to mind is an unhealthy environment for an impressionable girl.

Keep over thinking. It's working for ya!

[An]

I actually think you underthought it. You could have asked if thees's make-up involved - what kind, heels - what kind, if you can veto an outfit, if they can keep items. There's a long way from a store's kids fashion show and beauty peagents. You could have also told them that being in that show did not mean you would buy them anything extra.