Cardigan Empire

Salt Lake City Fashion Stylist

Fitting Room Friday: How to Dress a Tweenager

Today’s Fitting Room Candidate is clever, outdoor oriented, an animal advocate, and ten years old.


Meet Marli
Her doting parents adopted her at 18 months, and suddenly she’s a stunning, sweet tweenager, with a sharply independent sense of style.

Her eyes narrow at the sight of skirts, dresses, leggings, and tights.  Stripes, dots, and even buttons irritate her fancies.  In short she’s a juvenile minimalist.  An ensemble has been prepared precisely per her predilection.  

But first a petite canon of tween trousseau trusims.

Peace of Cake, Western Chief, Boden, Gap

Don’t baby their fashion.
As their squishies begin to straighten, they’re graphics should follow suit.  Instead of ridiculously round, chubby conceptions, opt for something leaning a few more inches toward realistic.  Don’t throw whimsy out the window, but perhaps favor graphic over fussy.  Cute isn’t off the menu, just apply it in small doses, like vanilla extract.  Rather than a whole dress of sparkly hearts, perhaps just an headband. Color is also important.  Also, soft, cuddley pastels need to fade in favor of a brighter, more saturated self-sufficiency.


And this is pure, unsubstantiated Reachel Bagley doctrine, but allow them to design their princess/rock star/future fabulista ensemble rather than shrouding them in a mass-marketed screen print.  Let them be the star of the outfit rather than the billboard.



Don’t Pimp a Prostitot*
They may have turned their shy lashes on a few lucky boys, but they’re still just little girls.  Let them enjoy sweet rather sexy for a few more simple years of youth.  And I’d say more, but this guy already said it better. (*I admittedly pinched this headline from him.)

Erego Miss Marli, this outfit is dedicated to you.  It includes no stripes or overly bright colors.  It admits only a tiny touch of animal whimsy and a discrete pattern on the socks. You are beautiful, wonderful, and special, and I hope I have a tween just like you someday.

Hello Kitty, Gymboree, Converse, Old Navy


In the meantime, book a Virtual shopping session for you, for your progeny, for your next family frolic.  I was born to fashion childhood and the supporters of it.

Feed me fashionably fresh

I Will Reclaim My Brain

I’ve been pining for an excuse to use this picture for months.
Today is the day for cats playing tennis.

I was ready to mold my figure with maternity.  I was ready to acquiesce my time and energy to my progeny.  I was not ready to resign my intellect to motherhood.  


I do not embrace my fecund-ally linked stupidity.  


My scholarly, academic google research uncovered thousands of articles on how to flatten my abs post pregnancy; balance a family on one hip, career on the other; but where is the balm for baby brain?




When I poise my fingertips to write-I have beef stew for brains.  When I part my lips to speak, I require constant access to a search engine, using the Internet as an external brain drive to compensate for unexpected noun loss.    


Pretty soon my babies are going to need more from me than the ability to remember the entire alphabet.  They may want me to teach them how to string letters together.  Counting above ten may be required.


I want to remember the names of the medications I’m taking.  I want to navigate back to my parked car.


Consequently, I am going to bootcamp my brain.  The neural connections that were separated during pregnancy are going to be fused back together with the mere tenacity of my will if necessary.  

I plan to play games like kitten tennis on lumosity once a day through the end of the year.  I’ll let you know if it works.

  
Has this happen to anyone else?  Am I the only one who lost their ability to form complete sentences post pregnancy?

What did you do to recover your intelligence?

In the meantime, I can still pick out a smart outfit.

Feed me fashionably fresh