(re-run)
In my shop, I sold pioneer outfits for field-trip-bound 3rd graders along with tea cups, signs, and all things vintage. Think Little House on the Prairie. Most of the parents were happy to drop $75.00 on a well-made cotton outfit of dress, shirt, apron and bonnet. Some, however, were not.
“Does she have a little sister who can wear it someday?” I’d ask.
“Could it be her Halloween costume this year?”
“Could you add it to her dress-up box?”
These suggestions often worked and closed the sale. But every now and then I’d get these response.s
“No little sister.”
“No for Halloween.”
“We don’t have a dress-up box.”
The horror of it all. No dress-up box for imaginary play? Then I notice her third grader hasn’t looked up from her cell phone screen since she tried on and then took off the dress.
Last night I watched the 75th Annual Emmies. Sarah Snook, actor in the show Succession, won and thanked her parents for giving her a dress-up box as a kid. What a cool thing to do, to tell the world that she is an actor because she was allowed to play dress-up as a child.
Kids today don’t play Cowboys and Indians, War, House, or Doctor. They are too busy doing Instagram, Snap Chat, Tik Tok, and Candy Crush. If I spelled any of those things wrong, it’s because I DON’T DO THEM.
I write children’s books, and again, giving the kids something to imagine while they read the story is a gift. Maybe the child can fly, or maybe the child is a dolphin, or maybe she is in Outer Space. Maybe she’s a flying dolphin in Outer Space. Whatever the story is about, the writer (me) has imagined the story and the illustrator (not me) has brought it to life on the page.
The child moves on to chapter books with fewer pictures, and finally Middle Grade fiction (kid novels). There are few if any pictures in those books, maybe one for each chapter. Now the child uses his/her/their brain to imagine the story, the way people have been doing while reading books these past thousand or so years.
My own kids (now adults) had lots of shiny tops, belts and skirts, along with boas, Viking helmets, purses, high heels, everything they needed for imaginary play. Little did I know that the middle-schooler was dressing up the dogs in wigs and costumes and then doing photo shoots in the side yard on summer days. She kept her two siblings and herself entertained. Years later, when I saw the photos, I stole them for my school visits — the greyhound as Harry Potter, a rock star, a Viking, and a fairy princess. The Dachshund was Hermione. True, I didn’t want to use any of the hats or wigs after that for myself, but they sure kept the kids happy those summer days with no scheduled anything to do except lunch.
I stocked the dress-up box with thrift store finds. My youngest went into drama, and her high school drama friends came over and played dress-up and did photo shoots. It was good clean fun while their classmates were out doing more dangerous things, like drinking and driving, drugs, and sex.
Kind of like my teen-aged years.
I should’ve had a dress-up box.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 