Short skirts and strapless dresses are fine for tweens – North West & Blue Ivy might look 20 but what’s wrong with that
IN the past few weeks, both Beyonce and Kim Kardashian have come under fire for the clothes their tween daughters have been wearing.
From red carpet looks to TikTok fashion, the A-list mums have been criticised for allowing their girls to wear “inappropriate” outfits.
Beyonce and Jay Z’s daughter, Blue Ivy, wore a long strapless gold gown to the premiere of Mufasa: The Lion King last month.
But some people thought the dress was too grown up for the 12-year-old, who voices Kiara in the Disney film.
One person took to X, saying: “Blue Ivy looks beautiful but honestly I thought ‘Wow, she’s like 16 already?’ No, turns out she’s 12. Let a girl dress like she’s 12 please.”
Meanwhile, another angry X user said: “Blue Ivy’s dress at the Mufasa premiere is wildly inappropriate for a 12-year-old. Styled like she’s launching an OnlyFans career? Disney, are you enabling this?”
Kim Kardashian has also come under fire for allowing North West, 11, to wear a mini skirt and low-cut corset top in a Christmas TikTok.
One social media commenter asked: “Why is this child wearing a bustier/corset?” while another fumed: “I’m not prude but I wouldn’t let my 11-year-old wear a damn corset.”
But as the mum of three daughters – ages six, six, and 14 – I think Beyonce and Kim are right to allow their tween girls to wear what they choose.
From an early age, I’ve allowed my children to choose their own outfits.
Whether it’s a princess dress and wellies to the park, a Christmas nativity costume in the height of summer or a sporty tracksuit to a birthday tea party, it’s their choice.
Mini skirts and crop tops on my six-year-olds? No problem.
Skintight dresses and fishnet tights on my teen? Sure!
If that clothing makes my daughters happy and helps them express who they are, in a creative way, then it’s good with me.
In fact, since my 14-year-old has been at secondary school, her school skirts – which started off with the hem meeting her knees – have been gradually rolled up higher and higher.
But rather than yell: “You’re not going out dressed like that!” I just wish her a good day at school.
I sometimes let my kids know that their outfit isn’t weather appropriate – after all, they might be chilly in a strappy summer dress during a cold snap – but even that’s not a deal breaker.
I just pop tights and a jumper in my bag before we go out, so they
can be put on if needed.
It’s simple really – their body, their rules.
Teaching my children body autonomy is important to me and not policing what they wear is part of that.
How can I teach them that their body is theirs and only they can
set boundaries around it, if I’m also overruling those boundaries?
It’s something that body image campaigner Molly Forbes talks about in her book Body Happy Kids.
This is a big task, particularly for parents of girls, who will need to battle against all sorts of ingrained ideas about what is ‘respectable’ or ‘acceptable.’
Molly Forbes
The book explores how telling your child not to wear certain clothes to avoid being judged can be viewed as victim-blaming, and instead parents should question why it makes us feel uncomfortable.
“This is a big task,” Molly says, “particularly for parents of girls, who will need to battle against all sorts of ingrained ideas about what is ‘respectable’ or ‘acceptable.’
“These ideas are reinforced everywhere, even in the way school uniform policies are written and enforced; skirts for girls and trousers for boys.
“This goes back to the differences in messages we give kids about what their bodies are for, but also speaks to the way we teach girls to police their bodies for the approval of others.”
Molly recommends teaching boys not to view girls’ bodies as objects to be looked at, rather than teaching girls to by vigilant over the way they present their bodies.
So if Blue Ivy and North want to wear short skirts or bustier tops, I say let them.
They should be allowed to make fashion choices that make them happy rather than be ruled by what others deem “appropriate” and less likely to attract male attention.