I am not what I would consider an elegant person. As an adult, I have never been a slave to the latest fashions or felt the need to dress in a particular way.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s because of my teenage years in the late 80s and early 90s and all the awful styles I tried at this point that made me back down from trying to perfect a particular look.

Back then, I desperately did my best to mimic the looks I saw on Top of the Pops every Thursday night. I had my already very curly hair permed and cut into a layered bob. The idea was to sound like one of the Bananarama group members. Instead, my head looked like a round, fuzzy tennis ball.

A few years later it was all made up of flared cargo pants and loose hooded tops. It is a difficult look to achieve if you are a slender model. As a person measuring five feet two inches and with hips almost as wide as they were back then, I had no hope.

I think back to the photos of myself from those years and I can’t help but laugh at the state of my friends and me in most of them. But the point is, back then we thought we looked great.

We had all of the usual young girl blockages, that inability to look at yourself in the mirror without hating something you see in the reflection, but when we dated in packs, we felt so cool. Our parents may not have understood or appreciated our look, but we knew it was just too trendy for them to understand.

Now that I have my own teenagers, I understand how important it is to let them choose how they want to present themselves to the world. It’s part of growth and independence, isn’t it?

I know, speaking to my friends, that ours isn’t the only home where young people have chosen to use some of their confinement time to color their hair in weird, wacky hues.

We had streaks of blue and green, pink appeared and even a bright gold color arises at the breakfast table. I’m not always sure if the color I’m looking at is the color they were hoping for, so I smile and try to keep my brows in a neutral position, so they don’t think I’m disapproving.

Would I like them to keep their beautiful, healthy hairstyles intact with the bleach? Sure!

But that’s not my head so it’s not really my choice and having been a teenager myself and remembering how I felt, I know there’s a good chance any visible parental disapproval will make the coloring of their locks all the more desirable.

As much as I think teenagers should be allowed to develop their own interest in fashion, I also think young children should be allowed to go about their lives with no idea of ​​what’s “in” or “out”.

That’s why I found it so sad this week to read that Beyoncé and her husband Jay-Z’s six-year-old daughter has a personal stylist and, in fact, has had one for two years. He selects designer pieces for her, matches handbags, shoes and jewelry for her look, chooses the best way to style her hair to show off her clothes in the best way.

I can’t help but compare this with my own four-year-old at home, who spends the three minutes dressing in a T-shirt and leggings in the morning.

As the day progresses, she can add her own unique selections to the look; Her sister’s sunglasses, a square sandcastle-shaped bucket she uses as a purse, and her brother’s old Batman outfit are her current favorites, but it’s all part of the game.

There are times, of course, when she and the other, the older two are tucked away and forced to wear reasonable parent-approved clothing, but not often, and not at all since the lockdown.

Unlike Beyonce and Jay-Z, I’m happy to let them find their own style, not become a prop of mine.

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