Yesterday afternoon, I was shopping at a busy cosmetics outlet in St. Julian's, and whilst I was discretely rummaging through the "first signs of aging" section, someone caught my attention.
She had long glossy hair with streaky blonde strands, sparkly lips, dangling earrings, and a gold crucifix hanging round her neck. She was wearing a short sweater with the words 'I'm hot' printed in luminous orange, and her low cut leggings exposed a perfect six-pack.
Her parents, who were there helping her choose an expensive perfume looked proud as punch of their seven year old daughter.
That's right, she was just seven years old, and her appearance came in a hundred different flavours of wrong!
Now, before someone starts hurling the word 'uptight' at me, let it be known that I'm usually considered very liberal when it comes to kids. In fact during a child Vs parent dispute, I'm almost always rooting for the kid; I abhor the 'cause I said so' line of reasoning, and wish it was made illegal to use the 'don't answer back' retort to a child's valid argument.
Most probably, I would also be one of those bad parents who allow their kids a Facebook account...
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