My daughters are 7 and 9, and if you have met girls this age, you know that this means they’re no longer in the princess tiara phase, but they are also not quite tweens, although they may disagree. They have one foot in the world of stuffies and the other foot in a pair of very specific and expensive Lululemon leggings.
Yes. Lululemon at the ripe old age of 7 and 9. I don’t mind spending money on quality clothing, but for black leggings that she won’t even wear every day, I am not sure it is worth it.
If you know me personally, you know I am not some minimalist.
I actually like it when they care about what they wear. I think self-expression at a young age is healthy. I would much rather buy a pair of overpriced leggings than bring out my law school moot court skills to debate the ingredient list on a $75 Drunk Elephant serum.
My girls have extremely limited screen time, we’re talking Disney+, the occasional baking competition, and zero unsupervised internet. They don’t have TikTok or YouTube. YES, I’m that mom. Yet somehow they know everything there is to know about Sephora. They talk about Drunk Elephant like it’s a childhood essential, right up there with popsicles. Meanwhile, I’m just over here trying to get them to wash their hands in the bathroom, not curate a 10-step skincare routine.
Apparently, even without screens, skincare is the new Barbie.
They are not asking for Claire’s face wash and a cupcake-shaped lip balm from Target, though to be fair, my 7-year-old still lives for that stuff. No, they want real skincare. Rosewater mists by Mario (Badescu, not Luigi’s brother) and sunscreens that spritz like spa water. Products that cost more than I’m comfortable admitting to my husband.
These girls are using ice rollers like they just stepped off the red carpet. Vitamin C serum as their daily dose of vitamin C. And one of my favorites, gua sha, has somehow made its way onto every 9-year-old’s Hanukkah list.
They talk about Drunk Elephant like it’s some kind of rite of passage.
They have spotted it at friends’ houses, and it’s the item that comes out at sleepovers right alongside the warmie and the expanders. Trying to explain why those ingredients aren’t made for kid skin is not easy. I might as well try convincing them the world is ending.
Welcome to the tightrope walk of parenting today. Our girls are growing up in a world where grown-up trends trickle down fast. But somehow, even in a low screen time household where TikTok is basically a swear word, the message still seeps in: you need this stuff.
How do I handle this? I tread carefully. I let them have a trendy sweatshirt that they really want. I compromise on lip gloss that won’t look like lip injections. But I draw a firm line at anything sounding like it needs my dermatologist’s approval. And Lululemon? That’s a case-by-case basis. If it’s something they’ll genuinely wear all the time and feel confident in, I am not against it.
I know this won’t last forever.
One day, brands and labels will carry more weight in their social circles. But for now, they are living in this wonderful bubble where no one cares, where Target leggings and sneakers mean you are just part of the crowd, no pressure and no status attached.
I’m going to be honest, do my girls actually wear Target leggings? Not really. That’s 100% on me. They just don’t fit quite right, and truthfully, I love clothes and have fun buying them. Most of their wardrobes come from PixieLane (which I sell, so I call it marketing), plus some of my favorite kids’ brands like Katie J, FBZ, and whatever else I find online at Denny’s or Nordstrom.
So yes, their outfits are curated by their personal shopper (ME).
But that’s because I genuinely enjoy it, not because anyone’s demanding designer wardrobes at recess. (And did I mention Charli has wanted to be a fashion designer since she was two? I’ve got the first day of school chalkboards to prove it.)
I’m savoring these moments, doling out a little trendy sparkle without letting the 7 and 9-year-old queens fully take over. I want my girls to have fun, explore who they are, and sometimes match their friends like the stylish little bosses they are becoming. But let’s be real, their worth isn’t tied to a tiny elephant stamped on a lotion bottle. And thankfully, they know that.
Sometimes I say yes to the trend. Sometimes I say no. I believe girlhood should be about confidence, fun, and freedom – not trying to grow up way too fast.
