Une Envie de Sel

Our Q is 100% tomboy. I have to re-state that on the blog every now and then because, I do realize, she comes off as such a clothes horse. She spins a bit of a glamour around herself, is the thing. It's an innate talent, and she has it. It's all a trick of the eyes. You mustn't let her fool you.

For instance, today at the Genghis Khan exhibit at the nature and science museum, somebody stopped me to ask if she were dressed in "traditional Mongolian clothing". First of all, the Q is not Mongolian - she's from Eastern China. Secondly, here's a rundown of what she was actually wearing: A turtleneck and sleeveless sweater dress, both from the thrift store. Black leggings from, uhm, T@rget. Her hand-knit hoodie. And thrift-store ladybug galoshes. How did this come off as traditional Mongolian clothing? It's the eyes, I tell you. Those exotic Mata Hari eyes of hers that people have such a hard time placing. She just gives the impression of being exotic from head to toe. She would look that way if she were wearing a flour sack, or a paper bag.
But make no mistake, my daughter is no clothes horse. She could give a rat's, uh, posterior about what she's wearing. More often than not she's dressed as you see above, a dirty super-hero t-shirt from the boy's section and whatever sweatpants happen to be handy (or dry). And the ball? It's her favorite accessory. She is fanatic about her ball sports. She doesn't care about color matching yet, but if you ask her to find "basketball color" for you, she can point out the exact shade of brown.

Nope, this is no girly-girl. She doesn't have an ounce of bling or sparkle in her. The Q is all snails and puppydog tails. She's a tough customer and a fierce athlete. She's imperious and demanding. She's opinionated and unequivocal (just like her daddy). Like Popeye, she am what she am.