I still remember the day I went to the fabric store with my mom. I was in the fifth grade, and the age of change was upon us.
It felt like such a rite-of-passage moment in my life, and the memories are crystal. It was the days of “The Labyrinth” at my friend Sarah’s house for spend the night parties, and light as a feather, stiff as a board. For prank calls right before star 69 was a thing, and I’d reached my elementary school goal of donning a badge for Safety Patrol. Dancing the Roger Rabbit to New Kids On The Block was a regular occurrence, and the icing on my ten year old life-goals cake, was wearing my first ever training bra. Even though I had absolutely no need, whatsoever for one. #latebloomer
I couldn’t wait to try makeup and {I thought} I was kind of a big deal.
That little wisp of a girl was in such a rush to grow up.
To top it all off, I remember how excited we all were over the impending end-of-the-year school sock hop. Which was basically another word for dance. Which was another word for all the parents would be there and no one would really dance so much as try moves like The Jive and Bunny Hop, even though we had no idea what they were.
The week before, the school cafeteria became obliterated with streamers and old school records on the wall for decoration. They even brought in a mirror ball.
We wore the 80’s well. Or maybe it wore us. #thosejeans #dietcoke #NKOTB4LIFE
We would dress up, and there would be party lights, and most importantly, after those final autographs in our yearbooks, school would be over. We were moving on to bigger things in the sixth grade. So in grand tradition of all things themed, we were all to don poodle skirts and saddle oxfords and pony tails with ribbons.
And there we were, my mom and I. Searching for the perfect fabric for said poodle skirt, since they weren’t exactly available in stores, and the www didn’t exist yet. I still remember standing in front of the rainbow wall of fabric, selecting the perfect hue of magenta. And then turning the pattern over to be made. It was measured and checked and altered weeks before, until my friend Jennifer T. {you had to specify which Jennifer with the last initial} and I modeled them together in sheer glee for our mothers.
There are evidential photos of that day, stuffed in one of my parent’s boxes in their house somewhere, shuffled between their moves but also saved for safe keeping, shall I feel the need to dig. I remember one in particular of myself and said friends as a final farewell in front of the elementary school sign. I’m pretty sure we fit the look perfectly, the only giveaway was our then-current-day-appropriate 80’s bangs. Because 80’s bangs. The feeling of celebration in the air. School was out. Summer was upon us.
And the poodle skirt that I had so much fun wearing that day, maybe made it for one more round of Halloween, if I’m being generous. It was ultimately destined to sit in a trunk, alongside my Girl Scouts vest, a ceramic rabbit my grandmother painted, a broken cheerleading trophy and vintage Strawberry Shortcake baby {I can still smell the strawberry kisses}. Sentimental refugees huddled from my now-dismantled childhood bedroom, stashed away for “one day”.
It was a long week, last week. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few discouraging days paired with lots of long hours of work paired with the summer itch and a little routine burn out.
We’ve been in a funk and the struggle is real when you’re drowning in a to do list and your kids are out of school for the summer. Can I just run through sprinklers and ride my bike and build blanket forts, and be a kid again? I’ll at least manage a movie marathon the next time there’s a rainy day.
Total first world adulting probs, y’all. My, how the tables have turned.
I was in the middle of something when Emerson found me and said she wanted to play dress up.
A welcome distraction, she’s recently taken interest in clothes again after a four year stint of workout-shorts-and-yoga-pants-only. And not just any dress up. She’d recently seen a show where the people were donning 50’s looks and she asked if I had a skirt like that.
I’d forgotten all about it until that moment.
In fact, I did have a skirt. Just like that.
It’s funny how a single moment can absolutely transport you back. The records on the cafeteria wall. The rainbow wall of fabric shopping with my mother. The simplicity found in the sheer glee of summer.
And suddenly, I’m standing there with my own daughter, all dressed up. In the skirt that was once mine. She knew just the lipstick to wear and the bow to top it off. Nearly the age that I was when I wore it. A full circle moment, brought to you by poodle skirts, and the little girl who wore it. I see myself when she smiles. I see her dad of course, mostly. But her personality… is all me.
That little wisp of a girl, is in such a rush to grow up.
Don’t blink, little girl. Slow down, really. Because soon you really will be all grown up.
And while it truly does only get better, it goes by way too fast. You just may be standing in your living room with your own daughter one day soon, in a full circle moment.
Brought to you by poodle skirts.
via nashville parents magazine
Janet says
I love this so much- the memories & relatable mommyhood! Thank you for this today
Jeanne says
Hooo Nelly did I need this today Ashley! My oldest daughter is 10. Couple weeks ago she and I went training bra shopping. Milestones coming fast and furious. I remember dressing up in a poodle skirt that may have belonged to my mom too when I was a kid. đ What lovely words about holding them close. These seasons go by so quickly.
Kelsie says
I love this in so many ways and I really needed to hear it today so thank you â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Anna says
This is just the sweetest. From what I can tell, if she does have your personality, sheâs one lucky gal.