To be tween

I have a 12-year-old niece who I adore. Since she was about 9 she and her peer group have referred to themselves as "tweens"; still a kid, but practically a teenager or, inbe"tween" being a child and a teen. Tween. I love the term and I love the kid and I have been trying to make her love all the things I love since her birth. As a child of the 80's you can imagine my disappointment when, during an informal karaoke fest in her living room hosted by her mother who was singing some 80's song at the top of her lungs, my niece announced that my sister's selection was terrible. She went on to say that she hates the 80's and what was so great about it anyway? I said what??? I have a small belief system of absolutes including: 1) Everything good comes from Canada. 2) There is no truth. 3) Almost everything about the 80's was great, including the music.

Living in Europe and being privy to the latest and greatest fashion trends just a little before my Minneapolitan 12-year-old niece, I was so excited to announce to her that the 80's had come full circle. The music of London is starting to sample and synth like crazy. Big belts are back and the shinier the better. Bling has turned to glam and silver is the new black. Stripes, glitter, polka dots, two tones, plastic, long shirts with low waists, straight legged ankle hugging pants and my fav of all favs, too much eye-liner of questionable colors. Yeah is all I can say. Interestingly enough, my niece is open to the possibilities. Maturity, clearly. It takes a while before a girl knows what's good in life and 12 seems spot-on to come into the epiphany of the glorious 1980's.