One time, while home from college when my weight had really crept up, I remember shopping with my mom at an Elder Beerman store and we went into the women's section. I got a pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans. The thought of them still makes me shiver in disgust.
My own experiences make me appreciate having a daughter who looks good in basically everything.
For her birthday last month, I went clothes shopping for her. I planned to buy her a new work outfit (she has to wear black) and a shirt she can wear for new headshots. She's an actress so she needs headshots to take on auditions.
I ended up with about four outfits because I found so many things I thought she'd look good in.
Surprise! I was right.
Before her birthday, she was going out to celebrate with a bunch of friends. I asked her what she planned to wear that night.
"Maybe this," she said, gesturing toward a tan and black dress she was wearing to work. It was cute enough, but it wasn't sexy for dancing in the clubs.
As I was shopping, I had found a sexy, v-back sweater dress. I left it on her bed so she would find it when she got home from work.
She sent me some selfies as she prepared to go out that night.
"Horizontal stripes," my husband said, when he saw it.
"It'll be fine on Grace," I assured him. And it was.
At least I can live vicariously through her and her clothing choices.