My seven-year-old daughter is playing a game on my husband’s phone. A punky, doll-like character has a dirty face, with green oozing spots and patches of brown dirt, bed-head hair sprouting from her head in crude black lines. My daughter dutifully selects a sponge from the toolbar and wipes off the spots, as if in a car wash. The game prompts her to cleanse and moisturise the cartoon face, and then apply layers of makeup. Giant comedy eyelashes, with gems, pop-coloured lips and blush. Then she selects an extravagant hairstyle, like a My Little Pony, and tops it with a tiara. “Now she’s pretty,” she says. I mentally add it to my ever increasing list of motherhood feminist fails.
Raising a daughter in an age where the cult of beauty is all encompassing and extreme perfectionism is gamified feels increasingly fraught. Raising a daughter having spent two decades as a fashion writer feels like a double twist of hypocrisy. In truth, working in fashion should make anyone feel like a hypocrite. I always have. Wear what you like and express yourself! Except also, wear these commodified trends invented to make you spend. But don’t shop! Because excessive consumption is killing the planet. But here are some cute new shoes!
