Tonight I had to come to the realization that my daughter and her friends think my clothing tastes are out of style. "Wha..what?" I thought to myself. I actually stumbled upon this heart breaking moment when these six or seven teenage hipsters were posing in their "ugly sweaters" for spirit day at our house after school. One of these precious girls forgot her "ugly sweater" (which I am now thinking, these girls picked their sweaters from their mother's closets???) and my lovely, kind, and oh so sensitive daughter piped up and offered her one of mine! What? GASP?? I thought I took all of my ugly sweaters to goodwill years ago....???? I don"t have any ugly sweaters?
"I have the perfect one for you," she said. My daughter bebops down the stairs with a very expensive Michael Simon sweater. Michael Simon is a famous designer. Of course, these girls have probably NEVER heard of Michael Simon. His sweaters run well over a $100.00 a sweater. Actually, anything Michael Simon puts his name on sells for a bundle. He is known for his creativity and artsy whimsical designs. These girls need to appreciate a good artist when they see one.
Now I have worn this sweater to the grocery store and mind you, have received dozens of compliments. Were these girls loopy? There was nothing wrong with the sweater!!!! Colorful? Yes, but in a good way. Ugly? No! Was the sweater torn or ripped? No. Okay, do I think an "upper" senior citizen would wear this sweater? I would have to answer, No!! So it wasn't cruise wear!
Then I started to think about the whole entire situation in an entirely different angle. Other adults as well as teenagers make fun of adults who they try to "dress" like a teenagers. So either way, as a mother of a teenager, you are "burned at the stake" no matter how you dress!
I decided to address the situation and tell the girl that had worn my sweater that she had superior taste in choosing my sweater. Seriously, to wear a sweater like the one she did, definitely showed, intelligence and a fine love for boutique wear! Silence and a little bit of smirking surfaced among the girls. I giggled too. How could I not. Bless their hearts. They truly think fashion is a pair of ripped up jeans and a thin low t-shirt.
As I walked away, I thought to myself, "oh my, I have seriously matured beyond that young girl that I feel still exists inside of me." Please take notice, I said matured and not aged.
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