The Fashion Police

After a short time, Hil and I connect. She guides me as though on GPS to the department in which she has been successfully shopping.I am cautiously optimistic. I arrive at the destination and find it to be a department aimed at prom goers. And biker chicks.

Hil has found a darling dress but it is really too casual for the Bat Mitzvah. A little more casual than I would have selected for the 7th grade dance, too, but it's been a long time since I was a 7th grader, and there was no dance when I was one. But I am pleased that we have something to show for our efforts. It is a cute dress, just not what I envisioned. I can let go of my vision.

I explain, without sounding like I am a hundred years old, that what will pass for the dance will not pass for the Bat Mitzvah. It is a dressier event. Hil seems to accept the idea. Especially because it means she gets to buy another dress. And possibly shoes. Yay me.

She flits joyously about the department pulling out dresses and admiring the colors and telling me that this one looks like something on Pretty Little Liars, and this one would look great on that character from Glee. She pulls out several for preliminary hanger approval. They are indeed dressy. But for the prom, not the synagogue.

And I feel a Mom lesson coming on.

A few years ago, I was fascinated with a show called What Not To Wear. The hosts ambushed fashion victims whose complete and utter lack of style was epic and the subject of local urban legend. They were filmed. Their closets were emptied. They were transformed. They emerged from the experience with a renewed sense of what colors, shapes, lengths, cuts were flattering and age appropriate. They also got magical hair and makeup do-overs.

I had an idea for a spin-off show. I'd call it What Not To Wear Where.

What is going to be a big hit at the night club is not what you wear to the office on Friday.
What passes as stylish when you are the Mother of the Bride will not go over big at the job interview.
The same outfit will not likely make the grade if worn from the PTO meeting to the Christening to the movie premier.
Your interview suit won't wow your blind date (unless he truly is blind, of course.)
The prom dress will be a spectacle at the Bat Mitsvah.

This concept is not only lost on most men (who think you don't need more than one pair of black shoes) it is also something that needs to be taught to a 7th grader.

I honestly don't know where to begin. But I know I need to leave the prom dress section and at least begin the lesson by venturing into one of those slutty little cheapy teenaged stores.

I am going to need an exorcism when this is over, I am sure of it.