There has been a lot of media [1] blather [2] lately about how very young girls are getting manicures and pedicures and other spa services, and though I got links from a few faithful readers (including LIME’s own Jessica Harlan [2]), asking for my take in this phenom, I just stuck my fingers in my ears and sang — La la laaaaaa, I can’t heeeeear you! I figured it couldn’t be so bad, little girls have experimented with makeup for years, the New York Times was just getting hysterical, and "real" people (as in, those who don't live on the upper east side of New York) weren’t even aware of scheduling makeovers and professional manicure and pedicure parties for their children.

Now if she knew about them, Georgia would want a manicure party. Georgia is a girly girl, and she loves lipstick and having painted nails. But she likes doing her nails herself, and, well, she doesn’t currently uphold the highest standards of beauty. And I think that’s perfect — let her experiment with garish sample lipstick applied in clown fashion and nail polish glopped on two fingers and three toes. She feels fancy and she likes how she looks and that’s the important thing. She’s not doing it to please anyone; she doesn’t have an ideal in mind as she streaks stripes of lipstick, eye shadow, and nontoxic water pastels over her cheeks. I think she’s adorable whether multicolored or bare-faced and I figure she’ll learn about really applying makeup when it’s important to her (and I hope that won’t be for several years).

But if this article [3] is to be believed, and I just wish I couldn’t believe it, there are many mothers out there who don’t feel that their six, seven, and ten year old daughters are adorable enough. And it’s not the creepy stage mothers of tiny beauty queens [4]. Mothers book their little girls into salons not just for mother-daughter time, or a rare party with their friends, or facials to help ease pubescent breakouts, but for serious beautification services, from eyebrow tweezing to curly hair blowouts and dark hair lightening, to — are you sitting down? — bikini waxes for girls who have yet to hit puberty. Yes, girls who have no hair down there have been subjected to the most horrible, painful hair removal technique know to (wo)man. Girls who should be learning that they are beautiful and powerful are being told they are not good enough and rendered powerless as their own mothers let someone yank out their peachy-fuzz hairs to attain an unreal beauty that is only sold in the media. Even if this is a rare phenomenon among people with too much money for their own good, it sends a shudder down my Momster spine.

When I was a budding teen I was hanging out at the playground with my best friend Leslie and a boy in our class, Charlie. Leslie had older sisters, newly developed boobs and was already boy crazy. I was a skinny, bespectacled duckling, sprouting dark hair under my arms. When I flipped over on the monkey bars in my handkerchief blouse I saw Charlie see my pits, a look of surprise on his face. A quiet glance of peer pressure was enough to make me slink into the bathtub and teach myself how to shave my underarms and legs. So how powerful are messages from parents that tell children that they should focus on what they look like, and how to change it?

If I ever have doubts about trying to give Georgia balance and trying to keep her from commercial television and the media, all I need to do is tune in to “real life.” There’s always something that reinforces my slow embrace of a simpler lifestyle, and it often has to do with a lithe, blond, perfect-nosed beauty. Georgia already wants blond hair (after pink, and Pippi Longstocking red, and then, of course, rainbow), and points out Barbie and says, “Isn’t she beautiful?” I always answer honestly, “I think Barbies are a little boring. They all look the same to me.” But she really loves the way they look, and I did too. And though I might have wished for blond hair and hairless pits, I wasn’t bombarded with a growth industry, complete with youth market analysts, aiming to make six year olds feel like they have to change the way they look in order to be beautiful.

I’ve been talking to other moms about this beauty party stuff, and trying to keep it under wraps, but I got worried yesterday when Georgia said, “Mommy, do you know what kind of birthday party I want for my five-year-old birthday party?”

I tried to remain calm. “What kind?”

“A MUD birthday party! With mud painting like Torie is going to have, and my swimming pool will be filled with mud! And we can turn the sprinklers on too! It will be muddy!”

Whew!