Don’t you remember what it was like to be young?
To have a small closet, a tiny allowance, limited resources, but unlimited beauty?
Don’t you remember what it was like to have nothing special to wear but yourself, your long legs, your shiny hair, your teeth that will never be this white and unspoiled again?
No. No you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have tapped my daughter on the shoulder and told her that she couldn’t stay at the party. Couldn’t stay unless she went home and put on a pair of longer shorts, or a dress, or a pink and green plaid golf skirt.
In the end, you have accomplished nothing. Because when she comes back in the lake blue dress, gleaming in the late afternoon light, you realize it has nothing to do with what she wears.
The light will always find her. She shines no matter what container you put her in.
Her Mother, Who Told Her She Looked Great