The morning ritual of getting dressed in our house has become a long drawn out process. Avery is just over a year and has already demanded a say in this everyday life event. She has decided that her monkey backpack matches everything, moms underwear looks best on her head, and that pants should be optional. For the most part I still get final say in what this little trend setter wears out of the house, but at some point that fiercely independent child of mine will decide that moms choices are no longer acceptable, and she will become her own stylist.
Do you remember the point in your life when you decided to take over your own wardrobe? I refused to wear pink, but if something glittered then game over, I had to have it. And remember those shoes that flashed? Or the shoes with wheels built in? I do, and I remember never getting to have them (don’t worry I’ve almost gotten over it).
Then there was the rebellious teenage years. The make-up was thick, the shirts were tight, and the skirts were short. I spent these years wearing pretty much anything my parents told me not to, and I have to admit the more they hated the outfit, the more I wore it. This will surely come back to haunt me and is the stage I fear most of all…this is also the stage where I’m sure wine will become my best friend.
These days I’m pretty happy if my shoes match and my socks are clean. Last week my husband watched our tiny human and I had the day to myself. I showered, put on make-up and wore a pair of shoes that weren’t sandbox friendly. I was trendy, and I was clean, wahoo go me! Then, pulling out of the driveway I glanced in the review mirror and saw yogurt highlighted through my hair (cherry flavour).
At the end of the day, your style will go through stages. It reflects not just your personality but where you are in that time of life. Now my pants are stretchy and my shirts are stained, but that doesn’t bother me. The stretchy pants are a reminder of a life growing within me, and those stained shirts remind me…well that maybe I should invest in some bleach.
In the coming years as my daughter decides she only likes purple, or that her gum boots look best with dresses, I need to remind myself that this is also just another life stage, and its my job as a parent to embrace the fact that whether her style is a hit or a miss in others eyes, it is her style, and she should rock it. After all this is her stage in life, and her own personality that she’s expressing. In the mean time, while I still can, I’m going to dress her in pink dresses, pigtails, and glittery shoes…until I find her a pair that light up!