Painful Lessons at Fashion Camp

 Reliving one's childhood through one's child, has to be one of the most painful experiences. Fi was in a fashion camp this week. The group was comprised of 14 girls (ages 11-14). Why did I not see the writing on the wall...? There was one wonderful teacher, and two very sweet, but unskilled helpers. So, they were quickly reassigned to another room, and I was ushered in to take their place; big mistake. The first day went fine, all getting to know each other, and all equally frustrated at the awful sewing machines, which began to die one by one. After the second day, we were down to four machines for 14 kids.

Next nail in the coffin; we start on our model sketches. Fi decided to make her model into a sugar skull. Ugh, most all the girls immediately started to make fun of her and her picture. Talk about peer pressure and conforming to the norm. I found this all very interesting, since they all idolize Lady GaGa, yet exhibited the antithesis of everything she stands for. The isolation of my child had moved into full force, mainly lead by one girl. I'm not sure why she hated my daughter so, but I feared it had to do with the fact that I was in the room. By the end of the week, Fi was totally alone. I finally lost it with two of the girls, and that only made it worse. Fi was crushed, yet she was able to create a wonderful outfit, one of the most complicated in the room. Her dip-dye t-shirt matched her paneled skirt and bag. I was so proud.