My 5-year-old daughter would, if she could, wear something poufy and colorful and sequined every day. She would also help herself to my (expensive) makeup and apply it with a liberal hand — crimson-red lipstick smeared well above the lip line and an array of shades across her eyes and cheeks that would do any clown proud. The end effect is like a preschool Harley Quinn on steroids, a deranged symphony of aesthetic expression .

The first time she wanted to leave the house like this, I bristled. “Hey sweet girl,” I tried, “What if makeup is just for inside the house?” Of course she laughed in my face and started to put on her shoes. Well, first she tried to put a pair of my heels on but I was at least able to get her to agree to wear something a little more comfortable and in her own size

See Full Page