When I was a kid, it used to drive me bonkers that my mom didn’t know anything about the most important things in my world. She had no idea what a friendship pin was or how you’d make one. She couldn’t name any good band, i.e., the ones a pre-teen would listen to like Duran Duran or Wham. And she didn’t find Robert Downey Jr. nearly as dreamy as I did.
It was sad, really, how much important culture she missed. When I’m a mom, I promised myself, I will stay up-to-date on all of these vital topics of crucial knowledge. I will know that blue jeans should be both acid-washed and pegged. I will know just how baggy a Shaker sweater from the Limited should be.
You already know how this ends. Currently, I have zero idea who the hot bands are for the tweens. I’m alarmed that the age now has its own marketing category, frankly.
I can’t tell One Direction from fun. Every time I bring up Justin Bieber, I am mocked, because he’s so totally square now. Or whatever the equivalent of “square” is.
I don’t know what kids want to wear nowadays but do know that their clothes don’t seem to cover enough of their bodies. Because I’m old, that’s why. And get off my lawn.
My brief, shining moment was catching the crest of one trend that raced through the fourth grade last year. All of the girls (and boys, maybe, but could never get confirmation from the Diva on their habits) were collecting small bottles of scented hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works. This was such a fad that the store sold rubberized holders for your sugar-cookie-scented sanitizer so that you could clip it on your backpack.