Glamour Girls (part one)

The sign above the door said "Sparkles." Each girl who enters is asked to make a wish and is then dusted with a glittery powder which is sprinkled liberally with a very fluffy powder puff. Once the glitter clears, a world of pink and purple and crowns and jewelery and flip-flops and mirrors and hats and boas beckons. It was a young girl's dream. We were doing the classic "just looking" on our first trip into Sparkles when a "glitter duster" handed us a pamphlet touting the various make-overs available to the girls. After giving the piece of paper a quick glance, I dismissed it and caught up with Kate to make sure she hadn't gone into sparkle shock.

Apparently, just as I was dismissing the list of make-over options offered by Sparkles, Megan was digesting it in its entirety. After another full day of swimming, we loaded up the van and set out for another adventure. Not yet ready to let go of the last night's adventure, Meg began to pepper her conversation with tidbits gleaned from the Sparkles pamphlet. What might the merits of the Princess make-over be versus that of the Rock Star. How long did we think a make-over would last? Wonder, she did, if her hair, freshly trimmed for vacation, would be long enough for the Movie Star up do?

In her wallet was money earned from summer reading -hard earned- and she didn't want to spend it frivolously. It seemed that all of the accessories included in the package made it worth the price, she reasoned and wondered aloud if we agreed.

As her Dad steered the family van back to the scene of the previous evening's powderfest, we agreed to go in and let Meg ask her questions to those with the answers (and the powder puffs) and then let her make an informed decision, albeit in a glitter powdered haze. After a few questions and more than a few minutes of consideration, Meg decided to go for it and selected the Princess Deluxe. This particular package included having your hair done just like the picture of the little girl in the pamphlet, your nails polished, and eyeshadow and lip gloss applied. In addition to all of that royal treatment, you got to keep the make-up (thank you very much) and choose a tee shirt and five accessories which were added to your pink string back pack. Also, you scored a "gift" of your choice to commemorate your evening.

While I agreed that one did seem to get a lot of bling for her buck, I just couldn't help thinking (quietly and very much to myself), that this whole event, aimed unabashedly at young pre-teens, or "tweens," should not be called a "make-over." A make-over implies that the original wasn't good enough and so must be "re-attempted". Since tween girls (mine anyway), are still in their "original packaging" free from the bonds of make up and beauty regimens, it follows that nothing really needs to be made-over. Perhaps, in this case, it should be called a "gingerbread-ing" just as we refer to the extras on an already attractive home that cause it to stand out. I'd even go for "icing" as in the adding of some extra sweetness atop an already delicious cupcake. How about "a bag of chips" as in "all that and a bag of chips" which implies that the object is all ready super and yet it comes with even more.

Whatever I chose to call it, Meg was about to experience it and so was Kate.

(To be continued...)