THE HONESTY OF CHILDREN

The Honesty of Children

A Light Bite on Appropriate Fashion

This morning when I drove my little I to her ballet exam, I told her she looked very cute in her bun. I expected her to say, “Thank you Mummy” as she would say when complimented but her response was short, brutal, honest and almost made me drive up the kerb!
“I look bald, Mummy!” I laughed out loud and insisted “No, darling, you look really cute!” and then thought about it and then looked at her again through new eyes via the rear view mirror and tried to see her through her own eyes, of a little girl one day shy of her 7th birthday. Little I, unlike big che- che S, has very, very fine hair. She has known from a young age that her mane would never be the same as her sister’s Rapunzel-like made who often needed a mega turbo hair dryer to dry. So when I’s hair was carefully combed into a tight bun for her ballet exam, she did feel a little bald. But to her Mummy, she was one cute, adorable little bunny and would always be and her pixie-like cuteness and tres petite manners are her through and through and we wouldn’t have it any other way!

Children can always be counted on to be your most honest critics. No holds barred too. Once, I attempted this new funky look of wearing a mini skirt over a pair of tights. My darling girls were quick to scream “NO”, in unison. “Mummy, you look funny, and you’re not so young anymore!” was the general opinion! That gave me giggles and I took a hard look at myself in the mirror. Yes, though dearest hubby always loved to see my legs(whoops-TMI), I do have to consider that I am not longer 18 or 28, but 2 years short of the big 40. Hence, these mini skirts on tights biz ain’t gonna work no more, Jose!

My girls are my best fashion critics too, when they tell me to my face that I’ve had too much makeup on my face, literally. Actually, I am not a huge make-up person. My normal repertoire is moisteriser, sun-block, light foundation and a dust of powder and maybe some blusher and a neutral-coloured lipstick, usually applied when the light is red.

So, on occasion, like on that hot & humid day in Singapore at Universal Studios I had applied more sunblock than usual and a thicker layer of foundation, and a redder lipstick, their verdict was “Mummy no, you look like Korean actress, Not nice!” I had to quickly tissue my face and tone my ‘look’ down!

Don’t get me wrong, my darling daughters really love me and are not at all like the Kardashian sisters (heavens, NO!) and just love their Mummy looking natural, good and pretty. Didn’t we all at some point wished our Mums were all Audrey Hepburns or Jackie Os and would love for them to dress up glamorously and stylishly and be the prettiest mum at school parent teacher meetings? I sure did! (and my Mummy in her maxis and long legs was quite a stunner in her own way despite her thick glasses! :)

Little I once asked me, not long after I have just delivered little T, why I always only wore my glasses all the time, lounged in Daddy’s baggy tshirts) which I hardly ever do as I am NEVER a baggy t-shirt person), and did not put on earrings on anymore?? I think she really wanted to say was, “Mummy, please get your act together!” Pretty or at least presentable mommies are nicer to look at.

No matter what we try to say and do and as shallow as it sounds, in today’s world appearances or the illusion of appearances do matter. A witty and sharp Scottish colleague once said, “a celebrity’s job is to look good, while we teachers have to teach, and to look good on the side, too!” Ha ha!

So, I thank my darling daughters for being my harshest critics. It’s not about appeasing the men or yourself, but rather your own most honest critics, your own girls! For if they approve, then nothing can go wrong, on this runway of life.

P.S. They’ve taught their little brother well too. Last week he said to me “Nice dress, Mummy!”