My amazing friend Joelle recently had the following experience with her kid:
Her tween daughter Molly has, over the past few months, shed her glasses, upgraded her wardrobe, and added some makeup to her heretofore natural-girl look. Nothing major, nothing drastic, and nothing that appeared to be interfering with her general sensibleness and wonderfulness. Joelle was, in fact, ready to breathe a big sigh of relief.
Until Molly came home from a weekend at a friend’s with a pair of four-inch spike stiletto sandals—sandals that had obviously been stolen from some small-footed hooker but which Molly insisted were the height of sexiness and coolness and something that she intended to wear immediately and often.
Here is what Joelle did not do:
Acquiesce despite her better judgment, because you’ve got to pick your battles, and Molly’s just expressing herself, and Molly will probably wear her down eventually, anyway
Beam as Molly modeled the shoes, telling herself that Molly’s youth and beauty must surely reflect on her and resolving to relive her own glory days through her adolescent daughter
Scream at Molly for even thinking of wearing such a thing, and remind Molly furiously that she is not raising her daughter to be a disgusting slut
Here’s what Joelle did:
One, she took a deep breath—always a good thing, particularly when the image of Molly even touching these shoes was causing palpitations. Next, she pasted a nonchalant smile on her face and told her daughter, “Great, put them on. I’ll drop you off at the North Trail”—an area of town famous for its streetwalkers and by-the-hour motels—“and you can earn a few bucks while I make dinner.”
There was, Joelle admitted, a tense moment. I can totally picture Molly looking at her mom, sizing up the situation, deciding what the next move should be. But Joelle had built a foundation of mutual respect with her daughter, kept open the lines of communication, taught Molly to question rather than blindly accept society’s views on what makes a woman attractive. So the moment passed; Molly burst out laughing, and that was the end of the shoes.
Let me be super clear: I do not think Joelle was genuinely prepared to shuttle her daughter off for a night (well, an evening—Molly does have a curfew) of turning tricks, nor am I suggesting you consider prostitution as a career choice for your own kid, even though she may have exactly the right wardrobe. I am not even sharing this story because I think it will work for you. (In fact, it was such a great and unique moment that it may not work for anyone again, ever.) I share it because, well, it’s just so awesome—but also because it demonstrates a really important aspect of your campaign to get your kid to put on some decent clothes, or at least some shorts that actually cover her ass.
Here’s the deal: This campaign can’t begin the day your daughter comes downstairs drenched in scented body glitter, sporting a microskirt and thong, and pronouncing herself ready for a trip to the mall with friends. It must begin many years earlier, when she receives her first training manual for an adolescence where her self-worth is determined by how she looks and how pleasing she is to men.
You don’t remember that manual in the pile of books you devotedly read to your daughter every night, in the long-ago era when she’d snuggle up to you and actually ask to hear the sound of your voice? It’s a sneaky one; its messages are hidden in classic princess stories (where the triumphant heroines are beautiful and the mean stepsisters are ugly, and where the little mermaid snags her guy by remaining completely silent), onesies proclaiming a baby girl “Mommy’s Little Shopper” (“Mommy’s Little Astrophysicist” having failed to catch on), and television shows and movies where boys control most of the action or where girls take center stage but engage primarily in activities like planning a tea party or corralling their ill-behaved-but-clearly-having-the-better-time little brother (I’m talking to you, Max & Ruby!). The manual also teaches your daughter to notice how often she’s praised for being pretty, cute, and sweet rather than adventurous, bold, and funny—and to realize that her tantrums and moments of rudeness will go unpunished as long as they’re characterized as the outbursts of a diva or a drama queen.
So yeah, your kid probably knows the manual quite well. And that’s just what the fashion designers are counting on when your daughter grows old enough to choose her own clothes—that she’ll gravitate toward the items that conform to the gender expectations she’s been taught. They’re counting on her to choose the teeny bikini over a swimsuit she won’t have to rearrange every time she jumps into the water, to think sweatpants bearing suggestive messages are sassy and fun, and to don uncomfortable kitten heels for everyday wear because “even though I can’t really move around in them,” a fourth grader explained earnestly, “they’re totally cute.”
In short, much of the world is arrayed against your kid—so you need to be ready as well. But how?
Ironically, one of the best ways to hooker-proof your kid is not to focus on the hooker-wear—at least not right away. Your tween is at an age where—despite the way she sometimes acts—she is interested in your opinion and cares what you think; even if she doesn’t appear to be listening, she’s definitely filing the messages you send and the values you espouse. She also wants to share her life with you—not necessarily the details of her crush, but the songs she likes, the celebrities she admires, the videos she watches. So let her do it! Ask questions, let her tell you how a particular song makes her feel or what she finds appealing about a particular celebrity, and tell her—in a matter-of-fact, nonjudgmental way—what you think as well. “I agree that song is exciting to listen to. I feel uncomfortable with some of the lyrics, though—I think they sound disrespectful of women and girls. What do you think?” “Yes, she is supertalented. She really has a unique style, too—do you like it?” “That’s an amazing video. I noticed that the guys in the video were wearing regular clothes, but the women were wearing really sexy clothes. What do you think about that?” Glimpsing this part of her world and engaging in conversation about it will give you an essential sense of who your kid is and who she’s becoming—and will also give you a chance to wield some influence.
But what if it’s too late? What if she’s already clamoring for clothes you consider wildly inappropriate or already has a closet stuffed with things-you-hate-to-let-her-out-of-the-house-in-but-all-her-friends-are-wearing? Then your first job is to be the parent everyone seems to resent but always respects, at least later in life, and say no. It’s not hard once you get used to it—you just need to be firm in your belief that you’re doing the right thing and convey a sense of authority and finality: “I know you want to wear that, but the answer is no.” Offer a brief, concise explanation, but don’t get dragged into a big debate: “A skirt that short/a dress that tight/shorts that small don’t show respect for your body, and they’re not allowed.” “I hear that Olivia has that exact outfit, but that doesn’t make it okay. Those clothes aren’t appropriate for anyone your age.”
Yes, she’ll seethe, because she’s a tween and it’s part of her job. But another part of her job is being mercurial, so she’ll switch moods soon enough—and when she does, you can deepen your “no” by exploring the implications of the clothing she wants and invite her to share her feelings about what it means to be attractive: “What do you like about clothes like this? Why do you think so many girls your age want to wear that? Why do you think parents might not want their kids to dress that way? Why do you think stores don’t make clothes like this for boys?” You can even introduce her to the training manual she’s been absorbing for so many years by flipping through a magazine or online ads together; note how women in bikinis are used to sell beer, how dangerously thin women are airbrushed to look, or how hollow-eyed and miserable the models in bridal magazines appear (this was pointed out to me by my then eight-year-old daughter, and it’s actually kind of hilarious)—and talk about how these images can lead women to feel their looks are the most important thing they have to offer, and to develop unrealistic expectations of how they should dress and behave.
Will this lesson induce your kid to cover up? Maybe not right away, in which case repeat the paragraph on saying no as needed. But it will give her a new perspective from which to regard microskirts and short shorts and sweats proclaiming her butt “Sexy” and “Fabulous”—and in this world of parenting tweens, that is definitely a most excellent start.