In the midst of setting up my closet, Zoe, my neighbor, came over. I’ve babysat her since she was an infant, but now that she is older, we do more mature things while I’m watching her—like go to the Nordstrom half-yearly sale. She is good at dissuading me from making frivolous purchases, and though she says that I “have way too many clothes,” she certainly didn’t mind playing dress-up.
I tossed this top into a discard pile, but she quickly snatched it up. I wasn’t sure what a ten year old would need with a low-cut ruffled shirt—she tried to convince me that it fit her and that I should pass it along to her wardrobe. I don’t know how, but Zoe managed to go home with a few things, including the shirt.
Kristine commented on my post yesterday asking where the Louboutins were hiding.
You would think that they were safely tucked away in their dust bag, but they were actually slipping off of a five-sizes-too-small foot.
She’s a diva in training.
Last summer, Zoe and I would watch The Rachel Zoe Project together. I got her hooked on the show and she has been obsessed ever since (she practically died when she found out I was standing a few feet away from Rachel during Fashion Week). To channel her inner glamorous self, she put on a pair of rounded gradient sunglasses and grabbed my largest handbag.
Then she decided she wanted to mimic me.
I certainly wasn’t carrying a Tory Burch patent leather bag and wearing crystal-studded Louboutins when I was in 5th grade, but who wouldn’t want to play dress up?