Clare Is the Kindergarten Rachel…and then Some

After all the buzz in the past month or so about hipster parents, I’ve realized that Clare is hipper than I am. I may be a grup who still wears jeans, sneakers and t-shirts more often than a suit; I may buy new music online and fix my hair every morning with fiber paste and my fingers; I may be a newly cool stay-at-home Dad who blogs and chats online (I draw the line at a MySpace account). But in doing my own thing, I’m just following the crowd.

I’m not saying that I’m a follower. I’ve pretty much always done what I want and set my own trends, like staying preppy when grunge was in. Or going grungy for my one or two visits to Manhattan dance clubs. Or wearing green J. Crew pants to an opening night theater performance. Style has slapped me in the face sometimes too. Like when I didn’t wear a navy blue suit and the proper shirt collar and didn’t give the suitable stock answers at interviews with law firms. But in doing my own thing, I’ve pretty much been right along side a lot of my fellow Gen-X’ers who are also still doing their own thing. As original as I may think I am or want to be, there are millions of us out there doing the same thing.

Clare, on the other hand, hasn’t gotten her style from anyone else. She wears a uniform to Kindergarten everyday, but when I send her to her room after school to put on some play clothes, she comes back in a brown embroidered skirt, teal green shirt with the word DREAM bedazzled across it, a pink hoodie, pink and purple boots, and a pink flowered hat pulled over her head. And I’m pretty sure she’s never watched Blossom. These are all clothes that Clare has helped to pick out or that she’s wearing in combinations that her Mom never imagined.

Clare also has a hip hairstyle that she asked for without seeing any pictures. We’ve even heard from a few other girls’ mothers that the girls want their hair cut like Clare’s. I guess that makes Clare the Kindergarten Rachel.

But I knew for sure that Clare was hip when we were talking after dinner last night. I asked Clare to go upstairs and pull her clothes off for her bath. She told me that she couldn’t go alone because she’s afraid of the dark—she has a new fear of going into a room that doesn’t have a light on in it already. I told her that there’s nothing to be afraid of and reminded her that she used to like dimly lit rooms like I do.

In answer to this she said, “I changed my mind. And it’s okay if I don’t like everything that you do. People can like different things. And that’s okay.”

I guess she put me in my place. Her fear of the dark should go away eventually, but I hope her attitude never changes. Especially when she’s a teenager.

“People can like different things. And that’s okay.” Knowing that already is what really makes her hip.