The Brandishing of Butt Bows…a Foray into Girl World

If your only tool is a hammer, everything becomes a nail.  So my husband would say.  I am finishing Roselind Wiseman’s book Queen Bees and Wannabes (hammer) and finding myself looking critically at the dynamics of “Girl World”, especially that sector involving my first grade daughter.  In my last post, “Should Schools Require Uniforms?” I mentioned my daughter dressed up for school in order to play “princess” (nail) at recess.  [Or should I say “Queen,” as my daughter was apparently anointed in her and her friends modern day game of royal life.  Mentally hearing “Bee” after “Queen” (another nail) in my daughter’s telling of her fun at school, I found myself recalling Ms. Wiseman’s book, reviewing the roles that girls have in their cluster of friends.  But that is another post entirely.]

I like to think I have more tools on my parental workbench other besides my hammer, but my hammer is handy and brand-new.  I’m going to practice using it, full knowing I will miss the nail and strike my thumb a few times but also knowing that the more I use it the better I’ll become at building something wonderful with it.

That something being a positive relationship with my maturing daughter so I can help her to become a sensitive, self-respecting woman who maintains the dignity of others.

A discussion of Girl World would not be complete without reference to how a female clique’s fashion sense impacts its hierarchy and how those in other cliques try to emulate that style.  Ms. Wiseman discusses this in Queen Bees.  Now while I found it positive that my daughter and her four female friends coordinated an effort to take their recess game to the next level, that of dressing the part, I worried about the attention their appearance may garner.  At least they wore Sunday-best dresses, not Disney Princess garb, but I could just hear the classroom table-twitter swirling around these little girls who went formal on a Friday.  Perhaps I am overreacting here, smooshing my proverbial thumb with my proverbial hammer but let’s face it:  a fancy few can disrupt an otherwise tough-to-keep-engaged twenty:  a classroom of first graders.

And other little girls in class could feel left out.  And they may wonder: “Why weren’t we invited to play dress up?”  The situation is akin to not being invited to a birthday party (and yes, this is discussed in Queen Bees as well…although the age group on the topic is older but still the situation applies.).  And if these girls feel like outsiders how does their disappointment impact their ability to learn?

I honestly hadn’t considered the above until a few days after the first royal festivities commenced on the playground, when, at the school bus stop one morning I noticed an unusual bulge protruding from my daughter’s back.  When I asked my daughter about it, she smiled as she revealed:

A butt bow.

A butt bow that unmistakably belonged to her Cinderella costume, which was being worn beneath her tee shirt and sweats.  (a poofy skirt stuffed into pants?  Talk about sacrificing comfort for style…)  She was the princess version of Clark Kent.  Of course, the arrival of the school bus being moments away I couldn’t take my daughter home to remove the glittery gown and had no choice but to send her to school, swollen with princess-y poof.  And hoping that she would remember my request to not remove her regular play clothes and wear just the gown at school.

Silly Mommy.

Of course my daughter arrived home from school in full regalia, her “commoner” clothing stuffed away in her backpack.  I wasn’t pleased that she had disobeyed me and since then I have made note to more closely inspect what my daughter is wearing before she runs out the door.  Because if a Sunday dress has the potential to cause a classroom stir, a gown from Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique (worn any day but Halloween) would definitely do the trick.

But then again, maybe not.  Our school’s dress code states that “students have a right to express themselves through dress and personal appearance” as long as students “not wear apparel that is deemed disruptive or potentially disruptive to the classroom environment.”  What I worried was a “potentially disruptive” choice of attire may not be that big a deal to a first-grade class.  Perhaps kids are so ingrained with the iconic images of the Disney Princesses that my daughter’s dress didn’t phase them.  Or my daughter was so given to wearing fancy dresses as her personal style her classmates were, like, “whatever!”  (Yes, my first grade girl says this so I am guessing others her age do as well.)  Or, to skip the psychoanalysis and invoke Occam’s razor, which states that the simplest explanation is usually the right one:

Maybe the kids in my daughter’s class just didn’t give a hoot.

Ouch.  I need to ice my thumb.

But I still think the bling of a Cinderella costume walks the fine line of dress code parameters.  If classroom order can be maintained, no harm no foul.  If not, the clock strikes twelve and the workhorse play wear replaces the gorgeous gown.  I think my daughter was in the former situation.  However, and this is where the challenge of working with a school dress code lies, I told my daughter that as much fun as it was to wear her special dress to school, (tap, tap! goes my hammer) it could cause distractions to both her (she has told me how “itchy” it is.) and to her classmates so they cannot pay attention in class.

Also (tap, tap!), I am prepared for the next time my daughter wants to wear a costume to school.   I will say something to the effect of:

Let’s think about how wearing your Cinderella dress makes others feel.  It might remind them they have been left out of the princess game you are playing with your friends.  How about we keep the really fancy dresses at home for “dress-up” and then at recess time ask others if they want to join in your game?  And be sure to include them if they ask first.  How do you feel about that?

I like my hammer.  It’s a great tool.  I’m looking forward to honing my skills with it  As long as I keep to pounding nails, and avoid squashing bugs with it, I think I stand a chance at wielding it skillfully.

Stay tuned.