Mums of teenage girls – are you reading this? Because if you are, I know you can relate. Shopping with your teenage daughter isn’t just a sport, it’s an emotional roller-coaster. I remember shopping with my mum in my early teens and how brutal it was for both of us.
We had very different tastes and, the truth is, I didn’t care much about clothes for a long time. This must have frustrated my mother, who would go on to become editor-in-chief of French Vogue, and is now the founder of CR Fashion Book. So, it couldn’t have been easy for her when I suddenly had strong opinions about what I wanted to wear.
When I finally did start caring about fashion, my style inspiration ranged from Kurt Cobain to All Saints, and Shirley Manson of Garbage (still all my style inspirations, to be honest). I’d rip pages out of music magazines and try to replicate their looks with whatever I could get my hands on, sometimes raiding my mum’s closet behind her back while I was at it.
One of our peak ‘clashing style’ moments? When I asked her for purple Dr Martens. While my mum had supported my rock-inspired looks – taking me for piercings, letting her hairstylist friends bleach my hair – purple boots were a step too far. Still, on a mother-daughter trip to London, she relented and took me to Camden and bought them.
But her biggest struggle was my short-lived preppy era. I’m not sure how it happened, but one day I ditched my rock style for white and baby-blue layers. She called me a tranche Napolitaine – a layered sponge cake. Ouch. Another episode I remember vividly was the Mickey Mouse leggings. All the cool girls had them and wore them with a matching scrunchie. I begged her for a pair, but she didn’t budge.
My mum wanted me to stand out, not blend in. Instead, she dressed me in flared pants and black pleather jeans, which was much cooler in hindsight but, at the time they marked me as an outsider. I now love feeling different. But back then, at 13, it was tough. The truth is, as a teenager, you don’t want to set trends, you want to belong.
Fast-forward 30 years and I’m in my mum’s shoes with my own 13-year-old daughter, Romy. And wow, I get it now. It’s probably even harder today. When I was her age, there were very few brands targeting teens. (By the way, there’s still a huge gap when it comes to teen dressing.) My favourite brand was Topshop, but we didn’t have it in France. Nor did we have TikTok dictating what you must wear. Back then, you dressed to fit in with your friends. Now, you’re told what to wear to fit in on social media.
Trends are global and start younger than ever. Whether you’re in London, New York or LA, the same shops are packed with teenage girls buying the same clothes and sipping iced matcha. But I remember that need to fit in, so I mostly surrender. As much as I want her to explore her individuality, I know she needs to belong. But I also gently nudge her towards something a bit different, because I know she has that edge.
She knows exactly what she wants and won’t settle, which I admire. We once spent an entire Saturday hunting for the ‘perfect’ pair of denim shorts but never found them. She has far more patience than I ever did, and happily queues for the changing room, testing every option with sharp attention to detail.
The biggest win, though, has been getting her into vintage. She’s scored some incredible finds, including a 2Pac tee I’m dying to steal, and a gown I couldn’t fit into but persuaded her to try. When she finally did, her face lit up. Sharing a love of vintage has been a huge victory in helping her discover her individual style, especially because I remember my own mum dragging me to vintage shops as a kid, which felt like pure torture. Now, Romy and I actually bond over it, hunting together for the perfect T-shirt, and I admire her entrepreneurial streak of selling old clothes on Vinted and running lemonade stands to earn her own money to buy the things I won’t.
Ultimately, the real question is: how do we support our teenagers in what they want to wear to fit in, while also encouraging their authentic selves? Because really, what we want for them isn’t just style, it’s confi- dence. Self-trust. And knowing they can belong – without ever losing sight of who they are.
Julia Restoin Roitfeld is a creative director and designer. You can read more articles by Julia on her Substack