I don’t understand how it happened, but I guess Lady Jane has officially become a tween. How do I know this has happened you ask? Because she has a new obsession with a little store called Justice. Apparently, if you are cool, you shop there.
One fine evening, hubby was away at work, and Buster Brown was on his very first sleepover. Lady Jane and I (and baby no pants) found ourselves alone. “A girls night!” Lady Jane declares with fist high in the air. “Lets go to the mall!” She announces with the conviction of judge. Finding myself with no reason not to go to the mall (despite the potty training tyrant) we load ourselves into the car and head over to the mall.
“CanwegotoJusticefirst?” The words explode out of her mouth as she hops out of the car. Fortunately for her, I do speak tween and I agree to her barely comprehendible request.
As we stroll the mall trying to determine where said store is located, Lady Jane declares, “I smell Justice!” as the store comes into sight. Unable to fight the pull of the neon colored clothes and teenybopper music she breaks into a run and nearly knocks over the poor elderly person who happens to be in her path to coolness.
I enter the store and my senses are assaulted with Justin Beiber playing so loud I quickly check my ears for blood. The shockingly neon clothing that makes me want to grab my shades. Then I realize when they were planning the layout, they really did not care if a stroller would fit through their maze of day glow.
I did, however, have to take a moment to recognize that the clothes were strikingly similar to what I wore when I was growing up in the ‘80’s. The neon, the peace signs, the three ruffled skirts all look like what I wore when I was, gasp, her age. While none of these fashion statements appeal to me now, I am nostalgic and reminded that at one point I wore clothes like this and sprayed my hair for height, so I must be patient.
I push mini tween through the store who now has her arms out intending on knocking as much as possible off the racks as we pass. Needless to say, it took me a good ten minutes to make it all the way into the store because I had to keep picking things up and hanging them back on the rack.
Finally! I find Lady Jane browsing the crap table. You know the one, filled with light up journals, nail polish, and glitter lip-gloss. Girlfriend NEEDS clothes! “Lady Jane!” I bark as I park mini tween and walk over to help redirect her to the clothing. We discuss outfit options for a moment, which goes a little something like this:
How about this one? No.
Do you like this shirt? No.
I begin to wonder if she really doesn’t like them or if it is the mere fact that I liked them that makes her decide that they are not cool enough. I surrender and walk back to mini tween in defeat. I notice that I did not pay attention to the fact that I had parked her in front of a bracelet display and she is now up to her elbows in glittery bangles.
Lady Jane finally finds an outfit that she deems acceptable that, of course, has the words Justice splashed all over it. We head to the counter to pay for our purchases, only to discover that there are no salespeople. We wait, and wait. Finally, a girl walks up. She looks as though she is even less thrilled than me to be in that store. She actually acts like she is doing me a huge favor by allowing me to buy the clothes. I am tempted to walk behind the counter and remove the stick from her ass, but refrain as the last thing I would want to do is embarrass Lady tween.
As we are about to walk out of the store, Lady Jane is so excited about her new outfit she asks if she can change into it right now. I reluctantly agree, not knowing how much more of this store my body can take.
Lady Jane walks out of the dressing room so proud of the way she looks. I can’t help but smile 1.) Because she actually cares how she looks, perhaps this will even lead to more teeth and hair brushing, gasp! 2.) Because I can’t believe how big she is getting.
It was all worth it to see her so happy. Even if this store doesn’t hold a candle to my beloved Target. I think I am beginning to understand where she is coming from.
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