Georgia didn’t get a new backpack for first grade. She still likes her Kindergarten backpack, and it’s in perfectly good shape. Her Laptop Lunchbox is broken, but it still works, and her Avent phthalate-free water bottle from last year is in fine shape. She didn’t need a special back-to-school outfit, or new shoes. She was ecstatic to get some great hand-me-downs from friends and her cousin (it’s great to be the smallest kid in the bunch!), so she doesn’t lack for clothes. We didn’t even need to buy school supplies, since the teachers got what they needed and the parents wrote a check to the school to pay for it. She doesn’t get that itchy, new pencil-smell, fresh box of crayons feeling of September like Hova and I do. The only thing Georgia needed was a folder.

She had asked for a Hannah Montana something, I can’t even remember what, but it was something we wouldn’t ever buy. Not because of Hannah Montana, though you know how loath I am to put any money into that particular commercial venture. But because she didn’t need it. I suggested that she did need a new folder, and maybe we could find a Hannah Montana folder. She loved that idea, and wherever we went we looked for one. By “wherever we went” I should admit I mean the two stores we go to that might actually carry a Hannah Montana item: our grocery store and the drug store. But neither one had Hannah Montana! Wow, is she so over, or were we just late getting our one school supply?

We looked through the folders at the grocery store, and Georgia found one with a horse picture. “Elmo!” she said. She got to go horseback riding and fell in love with a particular horse named Elmo (and she didn’t even get the Sesame Street reference, poor, commercial-free kid).

“Can I have this folder?”

“Of course, but do you want to wait and see if we can find a Hannah Montana folder?” I asked. “No, I can get Hanna Montana next year.” Yessss! We got the horse folder.

Now don’t get me wrong. If Georgia needed new shoes I’d get her new shoes. She needed a raincoat, and we bought a lovely warm one for her. But just because the ads and the stores and the commercial culture clangs that it’s Back-to-School time, complete with “green” pencils, “eco” notebooks, and bamboo t-shirts, Georgia didn’t need anything new, so we didn’t buy anything. When she needs something we’ll buy it, but ignoring the Back-to-School pressure was a big relief, and not a big deal.