Mismatched socks and more

“Is today mismatched sock day?”


I cringed when I heard it. The innocent question of a dad to my dear, sweet Abby as she was on her way into the school. I was 30 feet away in my car, and in a moment, they disappeared inside the building. I said a prayer – like the one I say everyday – that this man wouldn’t destroy her sense of self-worth by expressing his opinion of her style.

My only daughter’s sense of fashion is … well. Um. It’s unique. VERY unique. Always has been. Mismatched socks are just the beginning. And honestly, hasn’t this father of an 8-year-old girl ever heard of the brand Little Miss Mismatched? Even Justice is selling packs of three not-quite-identical-but-color-coordinated socks.

But in our little farm town of 1,200, Abby is ahead of the curve – a trend setter. Perhaps. Though some of her other approaches to fashion might be more “out there” than her friends would dare attempt. Although she continually reaches for comfortable items – ie. ripped, torn, stained or shrinking – over practical. That kind of drives me nuts. I let her know. A lot.

As usual, she shrugs her shoulders as though I couldn’t possibly understand why wearing the same socks from two days ago, despite being unlaundered since, is perfectly OK. I – the mother who blissfully circles the cute coordinated ensembles in the Children’s Place fliers, which are oh-so-adorable! – simply don’t “get it.”

The very first time Abby put on something I deemed “questionable” was when she was 4. Jeans with a skirt pulled over them. She wore similar outfits daily. It was a logical solution to a new issue. In preschool, they played on the playground when the weather was appropriate. That included some chilly days, so the jeans-over-skirt look helped her stay warm and wear the only thing she really liked – skirts – such a blatantly obvious solution for a preschooler. Except she was the only one who thought of it.

That kind of creativity and problem solving for a 4-year-old made me think, "Who am I to mess with that kind of genius?"

Naturally, we got comments. The first ones were praise: “I think it’s so neat that you let her dress herself.” I felt good, perhaps even a sense of relief since other moms realized I couldn’t have possible come up with those styles on my own. Then came some sideways glances and flat-out criticisms, thankfully directed at me while she was still little.

This year is different. Abby is a third-grader. Peer groups are forming. Peer pressure is rearing its ugly little head. To top it off, this fall she adopted a new look: a tank top over long sleeves. Shorts over leggings. Tall mismatched socks and funky high top tennis shoes.

“Um. Abby,” I started out a conversation with her the first day she dressed this way, unsure of how to proceed in a way that wouldn’t make her think I was judging her. “It’s possible if you wear that some of your classmates will make fun of you. Kids can be cruel, you know.”

“I know, mom,” she answered flippantly. “I really don’t care.”

That a girl! I thought.

Then a few weeks later, Abby brought it to my attention that teachers stopped by her room frequently to check out her outfit of the day. Oh. My. Gosh. I had a moment. And shame on me! It wasn’t the kind of moment where I was concerned the teachers might be mocking her, but the horrible kind when I wondered what they thought of ME – the mother of “that girl.”

It didn’t take long for shame and guilt to overcome me. God’s good at putting me in my place. And maybe he wanted me to know that not just over Abby’s fashion sense but over my life in general, I was putting too much emphasis and energy into what other people think of me. It was one of those eye-opening reminders I very much needed. As I reflected on the school year thus far, I realized I had indeed been fretting relentlessly over how others perceive me. Of course, I know better but wasn’t wise enough to realize that ugly sin was dancing in my subconscious.

Abby later shared with me that all the kids in her class think she’s cool because of how she dresses. That makes her very happy. It occurred to me that it’s one way she sets herself apart from the crowd, and as she’s become more introverted, I think it’s her way of expressing herself and starting conversations. She truly loves being unique in a world where women and girls are socially trained and pressured by the media to conform to the world’s standard of beauty.

There is only one standard for Abby: being herself. She never attempts to dress like anyone else or act like anyone else -- famous or otherwise. So unlike my young (and truth be told, current) self. And so, how awesome is she? How much can I learn from my lovely little 9-year-old? How much can she teach others?

Mostly though I pray she never loses her sense of style, which is – I believe – a very core part of her identity, an identity I very much adore.