Fashionista

Great news: I don’t have to wait until the kids are teenagers to have my fashion sense critiqued.

Hadley leaped over a decade with one question.

The other day, while downing her breakfast — a combo of raisin bran and honey-nut cheerios — the Barbarian paused mid-bite to cast a dubious glance at my footwear. Then she furrowed her brow and asked:

“Mommy? Why are you wearing Daddy’s shoes?”

My first thought: Damn, Hadley. That’s cold.

My second thought: No more Nordstrom’s. From now on, that kid goes to Payless.


My final thought: Maybe my shoes really are ugly.

The offending footwear hailed from Nine West — late-90s era, black leather, laced shoes. Sort of  Doc Marten wanna-be’s. There were possibly trendy when I bought them, way back when. But who can remember?

 In my defense, they still make their way out the door because:

1. they’re comfortable.
2. they’re so worn, I can slip them on without untying them. And,
3. they’re unappealing to stink bugs.

But now I’m rethinking my shoe wear. Maybe it’s time to pitch them in the dumpster.

On the other hand, let’s look at my fashion muse. Hadley revels in shoe shopping and worships my mother’s collection of couture. But should I really take advice from a kid who dashes out of the house dressed like this??