Not long ago, on some chilly morning, I went to get Lulu out of her room. She was already wearing a light pink confection with seed pearls and chiffon overlay, pairing the dress with silver sparkle shoes. It was 43 degrees outside. She would not be dissuaded.
She wore that dress to breakfast and during play time. She wore it to Costco, after I wrestled a sweater onto her. I could only get her to take it off after she spilled chili down the front of the dress at dinner. The girl needs dress-ups, doesn't she? My bad.
After two boys, I think I forgot about dress-ups.
My MIL sent Lulu a Halloween costume. It's Tinkerbelle. Lulu didn't know what it was, but she wanted it on immediately. She has worn it every day since. Her usual M.O. is to get up before I check in on her, remove her PJs, change herself, and put on the dress (wings optional, bell shoes not,) and wait until I open then door. She will spend all day in that thing. We run errands and pick up the mail as Tinkerbelle.
Sometimes we even fix the house in it.
I think it's a little Halloween dress-up hangover.
"DANCE WITH ME," she screams at her brother, grabbing his hands and forcing them to twirl her around until she falls down. "I'M PRETTY and FANCY," she informs you, "LOOK AT ME TWIRL, I SAID LOOK AT ME." It's all at one volume (11) and completely mandatory. In that vein, I present to you...
Lulu's Fashion Rules:
- No jeans. Don't even bring them in front of her face, you jerk
- Dresses need leggings underneath
- No leggings? Your butt better find some before she cuts you
- Those shoes better have sparkles on them or you might as well stuff them down your throat
- Is it pink? It had better be pink or there will be hell to pay
- Ankle socks are better as knee highs, without exception
- She gets to pick her elastic colors, or you can choke on those elastics
- Don't even think about leaving the house without sandals
- Pink adidas will work, in a pinch
- If it has tulle, it goes on immediately
- If it's on backwards, it's supposed to be that way, and it looks a crapload better that way, duh
Her rules might be even more stringent than my no flip-flops rule!
I don't know if I can live under this fashion dictatorship...although I suspect I have it coming.
A version of this post appeared originally on The Jet Set.
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