Our teenage agony aunt solves your style dilemmas. With brutal honesty.
Dear 14-year-old daughter
I’m going to a family wedding in the new year and I’d like to find something special to wear. Ideally I’d like a Bianca Jagger-style white trouser suit. Do you know of any shops that might stock one in a size 12/14?
Oh. My. God! A white trouser suit? With your proportions? Do you go out of your way to embarrass me? I mean, do you hate me that much? If you so much as try and squeeze your disgusting, wobbly backside into white trousers, I will literally die! You know Christian and Toby are going to be there, don’t you? I told you that, you senile old cow! Why can’t you just wear a flowery dress like all the other grannies?
Dear 14-year-old daughter
I’ve got a long body and relatively short legs. What style of jeans would suit me best?
I can’t hear you, I’m in the bathroom. I said, I’m in the bathroom. Jesus, stop hassling me! I’m on my period and you’ve NO IDEA what I’m going through!!
Dear 14-year-old daughter
My hair has always been long, but now it’s going greyer I’m finding it harder to manage. Do you think a bob would suit me?
Whatever. No one looks at you anyway.
Dear 14-year-old daughter
Kylie Minogue was recently pictured wearing bright pink Converse trainers. Do you know where I can get a pair?
They’ve got some in Office. Get them in a size 5, then I can wear them too. Yeah, I know you’re a 6, but you can sacrifice yourself, can’t you? That’s what mothers are supposed to do!
Can I have £20?
Dear 14-year-old daughter
I’m 45. Am I too old to wear patterned tights?
Blah, blah, you used to have ‘really nice legs’ at my age, blah blah blah. Well, last time I looked your legs looked like raw sausages. God, don’t cry! Are you having the menopause or something? Well, there’s no need to take it out on me. Your ageing process is seriously damaging my psyche. I’m going to be totally fucked up and it’s all your fault!
Not waving but ironing 
I’m too scared for my future to comment. Whimper.
So am I. Let’s hide under our duvets.
Thank God I only have boys!
I think – wild generalisation here – that they are a bit more forgiving. My daughter can spot a rogue grey hair at 50 paces.
I’ve put my fingers in my ears and and singing ‘la-la-la-la-la…’
I think it sounds like a good plan. Better than weeping into one’s frumsy pyjamas every night.
Just wait until she brings boys home….a whole other can of worms…
Now I’VE got my fingers in my ears. La, la-la la-la…
My 14 year son son would answer those questions like this;
1. Trouser suit dilemma
Answer: Dunno
2. Style of jeans
Answer: Whatever
3. Bob hairstyle
Answer: Can I borrow your straighteners?
4. Converse trainers
Answer: Gross
5. Patterned tights
Answer: What? Did you say something?
Not gay then, I take it. Shame.
My daughters are not so cruel out loud, but a look can speak volumes. Eldest can no longer fit into my shoes and rarely eyes my clothes with anything but disdain, but Youngest, almost 14, has just hit my shoe size and stolen my boots. On the whole I am looking on this as a compliment.
That IS a compliment, Hausfrau. Or at least as close as it gets.
Why did I have girls again?
Same reason I did, I guess: to wipe your bottom when you’re 90.
and I always wanted a girl…..
Your lovely boys will have to do the bottom-wiping, then, Tattie. Better prepare them now by letting them clean the toilet occasionally.
pricelesss! At least my boys won’t be having periods. Boy 1 aged 9 took one look at me the other day (I was looking pretty damn swanky I thought, in leather skirt I found in charity shop) and said “You look weird!” How did I ever survive without their fashion advice?
I always listen to my son, who does the top button up on his polo shirts and usually wears odd socks. Consequently I look like a total madwoman.
I thought these things when reading it:
How sorry I am to my mother;
How cruel girls really can be, having taught them for twelve years and – and this is the clincher;
How when my daughter is fourteen, she’ll be at least a foot taller than me and I’ll be knocking fifty.
Oh well.
I know, I know… why does the menopause have to coincide with a daughter’s peak of physical loveliness? Nature is cruel.
LOL mentioning periods when I was a teen wasn’t really done. I’m not even sure how I worked up the courage to tell my mum I’d started! Communication was not our strong point.
I’m glad I have boys too. They actually say when I look nice. I do get a lot of aggro over food however and they can be pretty beastly to each other, but then say they are just messing about.
I think I’ll take the food aggro over being told I’m a withered, dried-up old hag any day.
Yeah, my boys actually notice when I’ve had my hair cut, unlike dh.
but not looking forward to when they get large and smelly.
Large and smelly – I hadn’t actually thought of that. My boy is so weedy I just can’t picture him towering over me. The smelly bit is easier to imagine, though.
haha love it – you have just made me very happy that I only have boys – they can’t express themselves that clearly. funny.
Glen! Have you come over specially from Maxabella’s? Thank you! Yep, boys aren’t that cruel. I honestly think they don’t notice the little things, like lack of collagen in their mother’s neck.
Simples. Wear ear plugs and what the hell you like. Oh, and develop rhino hide.
Mine is ten years old, and just so nice to me.
There… better now?!
xxxxx
Thank you, Ladybird. I see the way forward now… x
How about:
Dear 13 yr old daughter
Have you seen my new Boden raincoat that you sneered at in the summer?
– Dunno. Yeah, left it at Alice’s.
Have you seen my boots that you wouldn’t be seen dead in?
– Oh. Yeah, they’re drying out at Poppy’s cos I went to the bonfire in them and they got a bit muddy.
Have you seen my very expensive silk pashmina that I bought for your uncle’s wedding and put carefully away out of your sight? And which you dismissed as being ‘Doris’?
– No, never seen it. Are you accusing me of taking your things again? That’s just so unfair. No way would I wear your things. Ohhhhh – was it a sort of lilac colour? That might be the one that was in lost property at dancing and Jo said she would get rid of it if no-one claimed it by the end of last term.
Oooh, my blood boils on your behalf! I shall start shopping at ‘Doris’ outlets like Windsmoor to prevent this ever happening to me.
Oh the frigging delights of teenage daughters. I have it all to come with having 3 girls…. i just hope the 1 boy i also have makes up for it somehow – someone tell me it will be ok!
Am sending you earplugs, full body armour and antidepressents. x
Got two daughters, 17 and 21, and nothing changes 🙂
Oh bugger.
I come over to your blog to cheer up and what do I get? My bloody daughter talking thro’ you like some weird seance scenario. And we’re still 3 years off 14.
Well….. she has accepted, for now, that embarrassing her is my raison d’etre. I am rather good at it.
But, I would also like my flatty boots, green cardigan and 3 of my bags back now please. Preferably before they rot in banana skin and lipgloss hell. What is it with that outward disdain for things they then nick?
I, too, just found my way hear via Mon Amis. I’m 55; my daughter’s 14. Years ago I started laying the groundwork: “Honey, when your hormones start coming in, Mommy’s will be going out, and we might be in for some nasty times. But we’ll still love each other.” It’s worked pretty well for us. But maybe your next product line could feature mother/daughter items. We could take turns wearing “Are you really wearing that?” and the “Oh, God, don’t cry!” t-shirts (no self-respecting 14-year old would be caught dead in an apron.)
An abridged list of ‘the disappeared’ (not including those items previously mentioned):
Her waterproof coat with fleece inner. Fleece disappeared last year, found in drama ‘lost property’ in July and briefly reunited with outer coat, outer coat now in school locker she no longer has key for.
My fleece, borrowed to replace her lost fleece, also in locker of doom
My eyelash curlers
My kagoule
My silk cardi (pristine since purchase in 1995, now (wherever it is) with numerous holes in sleeves)
Perfume bought as my Christmas present last year, used about 3 times by me before mysteriously vanishing…
My nice wool birthday socks (not the usual black Primark ones)…worn to bits as they go well with her school uniform
All my hairbrushes
All my eyeliners
Several scarves
Quite a few pairs of my knickers (despite being too big for her?!)
However, little does she know that I am planning a ‘This is your life ‘ style spring on her at the end of school tomorrow because I have obtained by nefarious means a key to the locker of doom and I am bringing my swag bag to carry home a haul of (my) goodies (evil laugh……).
Boarding school?
THERE IS HOPE! When she is 23 there will be something “vintage” in your closet that she will think is really cool and want to borrow. She will also tell you when you are dressing too much like a granny and help you tastefully update your look. 🙂 Loved your post.
Mary Ann
Well bless you! I saw your blog listed at Belgian Waffling and knew I had to read at least a few posts by someone who still irons and who, apparently, reads. I just LOVED this. If I had grant money to give you, I would send it. My daughter turns 13 next week and, well, I won’t bore you. My son is 9 and lovely but also a different and not classifiable creature, although classified as LD. But I don’t just like you because we have sort of matching kids and were probably born in the same year. I hope you won’t mind if I put a link back here on my own web site. I haven’t read anything I liked so much in a long time. Three cheers for you!
Dear Ironing, where are you? do hope you are ok. I miss your funny posts,come back soon. In the meantime I have given you a Stylish Blogger Award, cos someone gave me one, please swing by my blog for details xx
Dear Ironing,
Hope things are OK with you. We surely do miss your posts; easily the funniest sh*t on the web these days. Hopefully life’s not throwing you too many curve balls, and you manage to rejoin Blogland sometime soon.
All the best.
Worried babe! x
What’s my daughter doing on your blog?
Haiku for Ironing:
O Ironing. Where are
you? Blogland is not the same.
Come back. We miss you
Where are you, ironing? Is all well? x
Missing my bloggy pal. x
WHERE ARE YOU WAVING? MISSING YOUR FUNNY POSTS….COME BACK!
Crap. This is my future. I’d better love her as much as I can now because it’s going to get ugly.
Okay. Where did you go?
I miss you. I hope everything is okay in your world. Still ironing and making your children’s toys do inappropriate things…
maxabella@gmail.com
x
OMG tears of laughter over this one, heaven forbid but i think this will be my daughter in 9 years time…