Thursday, November 20, 2008

. . . kept Betsy little




Could time just stop now? Today Betsy is four years old. She really doesn't need to get any older, as far as I'm concerned. Four is perfect . . . Happy birthday, sweetheart. (Look at those eyes. . .)


I shopped for Betsy's birthday present yesterday: fuzzy pink robe and PJs is what she requested. Got that. But brief rant here: What's with little girls' clothing? Why would anyone want a four year old to look anything like one of the current teen or preteen sex symbols currently in vogue? What's with all the trashy-looking stuff out there? And this is at Nordstrom. Don't they have enough time to look dumb when they get older? Why would you put a skull & crossbones T-shirt on a little one? What happened to the pretty little velvet dresses with white lace collars, black patent T-strap shoes? Princess-style coats with velvet collars and cuffs? Satin hairbows? Not every day, but for special occasions, like Christmas? Not those slinky nasty-looking copies of the crap older kids are wearing. And don't get me started on little boys' clothes. . . I'm still in the navy blue suit with short pants and knee socks stage there. (Ooooh, I really sound like a grandma, don't I?) Oh, well, fashion is fleeting herd-mentality; style is enduring individuality. And Betsy has a while to learn that.

4 comments:

Martha Marshall said...

What a picture she is!! Thank goodness for digital cameras, right? I'm one hundred percent with you on the ridiculous fashion thing too!

Mary, I hate to break it to you this way, but you've been tagged. Check out my blog post from this morning:

http://artistsjournal.wordpress.com/2008/11/20/art-blog-tag/

Anonymous said...

You are a wonderful grandmother, and she is a beautiful granddaughter. Have fun with both of them
Hildymouse

Catherine said...

She is just adorable...I can see why you want to keep her *little*

Mary Buek said...

Martha and Catherine: Thanks for checking in on Betsy. Tagged, huh? I'm on my way to check it out, Martha.

Hildi: See you Thursday. . . with the smashed potatoes, right? Should be a trip, don't you think?