What was she thinking?

So I am cutting through Macy's to get to Starbucks, and I see this little girl just staring at a picture on the lower half of the Dior make-up counter, perfectly placed at her eye-level. She was completely holding up traffic and her mother, oblivious on a cell phone, didn't even see her. I was curious as to what was holding her attention so strongly. I walk passed her and see this:



Okay, so it wasn't exactly THIS ad but it was close. It was the same shoot for the ad, but Charlize Theron was showing more boob. So here is this little one, about 6 or 7 years old, mesmerized by Charlize grabbing her dress and slathering herself in J'adore. (This is the same ad that spawned the commercial where she rips off all her clothes because nothing can satisfy her--not even diamonds--only J'Adore; you can YouTube it.) I almost felt sad. And so another little nubbin--this one with blonde hair in a little pink parka with a pink striped scarf and pink mittens--falls unknowingly into the crevasse... I know I am putting too many adult feelings on this one, but I just had this flash of how she is going to grow up--how she will see the world and how the world will see her. And, really, what she is going to have to do--and chose to sacrifice--to fit into it.

Anyway, as I ascended on the escalator to what should have been my warm Cinnamon Dolce respite, I started to feel my Women's Studies classes percolating inside me again. I remembered the statistic about 80% of 3rd grade girls already have been on a diet or currently being on one. I thought about all the research on socialization and how girls purposely start to "dumb down" in school to fit in. Granted, we have come a long way, but the rate at which it happens is still extreme. I also found myself thinking about the email wrote to my Goddaughter last night in response to her email about her mom being a "Nazi." She is growing up, becoming a woman, and definitely giving me the creeps as she does it in terms of the sex thing. Regardless, I worry about her conforming. She is so strong-willed, yet I see her cracking and wanting to be "popular." For example, I was visiting her this summer and took her to the mall. She was in a Pac Sun phase because she said that was where all the "rebels" shopped. Being a smartass, I countered with, "Well, if all the rebels shop there it doesn't sound too rebellious." She gave me "the look"--which I think she inherited from me. Point is... she is still her own person and I don't want her to forget that for her friends, for a guy, for anything--because I did and it took me a long time to remember who I was again. I think all teenagers go through that phase, but the number of girls who make it out is slim--especially when we live in a world of Acai berry diets, anal bleach, wrinkle creams, and airbrushed perfection on every magazine and TV screen. All sorts of things to make us not like who we are.

One good thing about the Macy's experience happened on my way down the escalator. The little girl was still there with her mouth open, but a high school girl in her black and orange varsity jacket also walked by--wearing these awful looking cotton polka dotted pants and snow boots. And, you know, I loved her for it. It is a sign that not all women get sucked into the vortex. Some swallow the red pill and reject the blue. I hope that one day the little pink parka girl ends up at the mall in polka dot pants. She may not like the Matrix, but it is better to be aware than to live in la la land.