My parents dressed me in bows for the majority of my childhood. Some were big, some were some were small, some were short, some were tall (Just call me Theodor Seuss Geisel). But actually, some were freakin’ massive, like cover the width of my head, dangle onto my face, inconvenience my soccer game, type of massive. They came in all colors and patterns, and I know my mom had a ball coordinating my sister’s bows with my own.
I definitely liked bows up until a certain point, probably mid-first grade. That was around the time I started developing an opinion on dressing “too fancy,” as I would say. I was ready to stop being the girl dominated by her bow, and shine like the non-bow-wearing being I am today! And, if I’m really being honest, I felt super dorky. Barrettes and choker necklaces were far more on trend than my smocked dresses and crinoline underskirts.
I continue to think bows are adorable on little kids, but I do not advocate for adult/teenage bow-wearing. Something about it rubs me the wrong way…There’s this attempt to capture an innocence that no longer exists, and it comes off a little creepily to me.
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