Recently, I was hosting a little party and chatting with a woman who had raised her children and is now enjoying the pleasures of being a grandmother. She told me she only had one phrase of advice for parents of teenagers (having been through it herself)–she said, “Pick your battles–let go of the unimportant things.” This wasn’t the first time I’d heard such words of wisdom from experienced mentor parents who’ve earned their stripes. One of the areas where I have let go…is with wardrobe.
To be honest, I let my kids start dressing themselves from the time they wanted to–which was when they were quite young. As soon as they had interest and opinion, I pretty much let them have their way. Of course, for certain occasions, I would exert a little maternal pressure and I was still pretty much in charge of the purchasing–but now, I don’t even really do that. I do my very best to keep my mouth shut.
Now, this is one area in our family dynamic where things have gone quite smoothly. And, certainly, I would like to take credit for my fine parenting choices having contributed to the complete lack of wardrobe power struggles in our house (I know, I can’t take credit for the good stuff and not take credit for the challenging stuff–I really think they get the bulk of the credit). Everyone dresses quite reasonably–no chains, piercings, mohawks, too-short mini skirts or other questionable adolescent choices. The most rebellious dresser in our family is my son, who insists upon only wearing shorts–year-round–long, khaki, cotton, shorts. He has multiple pairs and will wear them until he either grows out of them, or they are wearing thin and starting to shred. This is usually after a few “mendings.”
When the trend of his “uniform” (khaki shorts, state college t-shirt, hooded sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) started a couple years ago–I confess, I was worried that people might think I was a bad, lazy, negligent mom who was letting her kid go to school in shorts in the winter. In the world I grew up in, we were only allowed to wear shorts to school on the very last day of the school year, so a tiny part of me was actually envious of the freedom my son has to wear them year-round. But, it also seemed silly for me to be lecturing a twelve or thirteen-year-old about how to dress. Other than offering up the “It’s supposed to stay close to freezing all day today” or “My, your legs look purple today.” I learned to let it go. After all, there is that Italian chef on the food channel who is always in just the same sort of shorts–so it must not be an impediment to having a career and being an adult.
When I see teens dressed more extreme around town–some of whom I recognize from when they were much littler, younger sorts–I can’t help but nod and smile. I feel a camaraderie with their parents and wonder if the parents are letting go, allowing the typical, age-appropriate experimentation with wardrobe (and remembering our own rebellious explorations of the teen years) or if they cringe every time their formally-pink-faced daughter bounds down the stairs in her black eyeliner and zipper-laden black dress and combat boots. I’m willing to bet it’s a little of both…