Monday, nothing. Tuesday, nothing. Wednesday, Thursday. Whenever. Whatever. She can't wait forever to start shopping. Practically everyone else already has their dress!
Too old for the daddy-daughter dances, too young for prom, the seventh-grade girls were trapped in a glamourless landscape of Aeropostale sweatpants and afterschool sock hops as far as they could see.
Then along came Joseph Balakovich and centuries of cultural tradition that the girls have subsumed into a single headline from the marie claire fall fashion alert: Ruffles rule!
The girl and her friends are so eager to share in this
fashion cultural and spiritual milestone in the life of their friend and classmate they can not stop texting about it.
"Did u see Molly's dress?" "Wat is Amelia wearing?" And "OMG, I think that is the exact same dress that Emma bought!!!"
Probably they are also googling sections of the Torah and sharing thoughts on the age of moral responsibility, but I don't overhear everything.
Behind the excitement, a platoon of mothers is dispatched to area malls to commence
arguing shopping. Dresses are considered, rejected, considered again, argued over, purchased, returned and repurchased. Unless that is just the way we do it?
Pointless discussions ensue over proper dress. No middle school girl will be caught dead in a dress that covers her shoulders and her knees, no matter how many years of tradition are behind it. It is also a foregone conclusion that the best dress will be the one that costs the most.