She Dresses Herself

I’m embarrassed to admit how many times the words “She dresses herself” have come out of my mouth. Yes, I have one of those independent dressers that insists on selecting her own outfits. As a result, I have often felt the need to point out that what you see before you is her own doing. My beautiful daughter, age 6, does her best to leave the house in dirty shoes, jeans with holes in the knees, and the loosest, longest t-shirts in her drawer. Should anything actually match, it’s purely coincidental.

When she started school, at the age of four, she would argue in favour of ratty, worn clothes instead of the charming ensembles I had laid out for her. Our mornings usually ended with one of us in tears (me), as she paraded to school in her tattered play clothes. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed by her appearance. On the contrary, she looked adorable, but I was worried people would think she was neglected—that mom would dress herself for the day, but leave her poor disheveled daughter to fend for herself.

The morning clothing battle became so monumental that I sought the advice of local parenting expert, Win Harwood. The hour-long session that left me feeling like a heel went something like this: (It was two years ago, so Win will forgive my paraphrasing, I’m sure. She’s nice like that.)

Win:       Why is it so important how she looks?

Me:        Because.

Win:       No really, why do you care what she wears?

Me:        I don’t want people to think she’s neglected. 

Win:       Is she?

Me:        Of course not!

Win:       Well then, why does it matter?

Me:        She’s 4 years old. Shouldn’t she just do it because I ask her? Because I’m her mother? Why is she so stubborn?

Win:       So you want her to do it because you told her so?

Me:        Of course.  (I was feeling a little smug at this point)

Win:       So, you would like her to do things because people tell her to?

Me:        cricket … cricket … 

Win:       You want her to be a pleaser … like you?

Long silence

Win:       How’s that working out for you?

Me:        Pass me a tissue, please?

You get the picture. That moment changed the trajectory of my relationship with my daughter forever. It was the single best thing that ever happened to ‘us’. There really are moments when a child needs to listen to a parent. This wasn’t one of them. I wanted her to have opportunities to think for herself. Surrendering to this battle was my way of letting her know that she did have freedom of choice.

I stopped trying to manipulate her selections. I let her wear what she wanted. Mornings were civilized. Birds were singing and the sun was shining. But it wasn’t until recently that I realized that her selections are not really her best effort at putting herself together. She just genuinely doesn’t care. I’ve come to learn over the last two years, that school, play, family visits, and restaurants are not fashion-worthy. She just wants to be comfortable. While I assumed that her messy outfits were a reflection of her personal style, it really was just something to cover up so she could leave the house. It had nothing to do with fashion.

There’s a video circulating social media of a young girl, bullied about her appearance, speaking to her mother. Her comment, so eloquently put, was, “I’m here to learn. I’m not here for a fashion show.” Silly me. That’s how my daughter feels about most things. She’s just not interested in the fashion show.

When my beautiful, confident, smart young person decides she wants to ‘up her game’, you’d better be floored by the compliment. Flattered that your home, or your occasion, is worth her time. And when my sweet girl puts her heart into her outfit, it is the coolest ensemble you’ll find. Never anything that I would have chosen. So much better.

So, yes—damn right she dresses herself. I couldn’t be more proud.

I might though – on occasion – suggest that she at least change into clean shoes. I never said I was perfect.