The stories I remember loving as a child are the ones I was told about my own parents childhood memories. Also I loved stories about myself as a baby or younger self. I loved to hear them over and over and over again.
I still love to hear about my parent’s childhoods – they were so starkly different than my own and now as we “write” the stories of our children’s lives … the difference is even greater.
Clothes. That one word is what brought this whole conversation on in my head.
My grandma would make my mom and all her sisters a dress for the first day of school and they’d all get to buy a new pair of shoes – which also had to be worn on Sunday’s.
One new dress. They also all got one more new dress come Easter time. (Right mom? I’m not making this up am I? I’m pretty sure thats how the story goes, comment away! Do tell!)
When I was younger we made a HUGE deal about school shopping – we’d get in the Ford Aerostar Minivan circa 1989ish and drive ALL THE WAY to Grand Rapids (an hour away) to hit up the big shopping mall. And the Payless.
We each got a couple of new outfits and a pair of shoes or two.
Now, shopping with my kids? I actually don’t get into it that much, when they need a size up in pants or a couple of shirts I hit up Target or WalMart or the local consignment store. I love second hand shopping for our clothes because it saves so much money – but tonight as I was going through my GoogleReader I came across a store that was targeted directly at my 5 year old.
The only store that was targeted towards me when I was shopping with my mom was the candy store and the toy store.
Don’t worry, this isn’t a rant … it’s just odd to me. I’ve been in a mall as an adolescent and the only store I was interested in was the Claires or the coffee shop with the cute boy working behind the counter. And now I’m in a mall and I’m interested in the chain stores for their clothing or the baby stores for their clothing.
I haven’t yet walked into a mall and specifically been interested in a tween store, one that I could shop at for my child and actually buy something in her size. It’s a little bit sad. Another chapter done.