Outfit Planning: The Daily Teen Girl Summit (AKA How I Lost My Sanity to Vibe Wars”)
Raising a teen daughter in 2025 means I live in a world where outfits aren’t just clothes—they’re full-on strategic operations that require hours of preparation, negotiation, and multiple video calls. And no, I’m not exaggerating.
Remember when picking an outfit was a five-minute thing? Jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, done? Yeah, me neither. These days, it’s a full-blown daily summit with her squad. We’re talking late-night group FaceTimes where the stakes are high, the debates are fierce, and the goal is always the same: “nail the vibe.”
Night-Before Vibe Check: A 10pm Ritual
Every night before an event—whether it’s school, the beach, or a trip to Walmart—they hop on FaceTime with friends like they’re UN delegates negotiating a ceasefire.
You’ll hear things like:
- “Wait, is it more ‘cute and casual’ or like ‘effortlessly Instagram baddie’?”
- “If YOU wear jean shorts then I can’t wear my long skirt because we’ll look mismatched in pics.”
- “Hold on, lemme see it with your slides. No, the other slides.”
Meanwhile, I’m in the background in my oldest pair of stretchy pants and a ‘Coffee First’ tee from 2014, trying not to inhale my third snack of the night too loudly.
School Outfit Planning: The Pre-Dawn Drama
Every school day begins the night before with a vibe analysis. It’s not “What’s the weather?” anymore. It’s “What’s the energy?” Will it be “cozy academic,” “casual cool,” or “effortless Insta-baddie”?
The group chat blows up with pictures of shoes, accessories, and last-minute edits:
- “Nooo, those white sneakers are so last week.”
- “If you wear those jeans, I’m wearing the oversized tee.”
- “Is the ‘soft grunge’ look out or making a comeback?”
Meanwhile, I’m in the background, pretending not to overhear this intense back-and-forth about whether ‘cute but not trying too hard’ means crop top or oversized hoodie. I
Beach Day Attire: Not Your Average Swimsuit
Ah, summer. When the sun’s out and you’d think swim trunks and flip-flops would suffice. Nope. Suddenly it’s a beach fashion extravaganza.
There’s the arrival look (a carefully curated “I’m here to vibe, but I’m also ready for a boomerang”), the swimwear (because bikinis have to have just the right cut, color, and “feel”), and then the post-swim “casual” outfit (linen pants with strategically rolled cuffs and a shirt that says, “I’m on vacation, don’t talk to me”).
Accessories? Sunglasses that (look like) they cost more than my groceries, a cute hat to “shade the vibe,” and a beach tote filled with enough lip gloss to start a beauty salon. And don’t you dare forget the eyelash curler. Sunscreen? Oh, it’s there — somewhere under all the sprays and mists that claim to do everything except protect from your mom’s sunscreen lectures.
Mall and Walmart: Two Different Worlds of “Cute”
You might think “mall cute” and “Walmart cute” are interchangeable, but oh no, there’s a sacred divide.
Mall cute is a coordinated outfit that looks like it took 15 minutes, 3 Instagram polls, and an emergency video call with friends. Matching sets that look like pajamas but definitely aren’t, paired with the ever-important statement sneakers. This look screams: “I’m here to shop, but also to be seen.”
Walmart cute, however, is a whole different beast. It’s “comfort meets function,” but don’t be fooled—there’s still a vibe. Usually, it’s leggings with a long graphic tee and a hoodie tied around the waist, just in case the air conditioning turns the place into an icebox. Hair up, minimal makeup, but still “presentable enough” to run into a classmate and not get embarrassed.
Out to Eat: The “Dinner Cute” Dilemma
Then there’s the sacred “out to eat” outfit—a mysterious level of cute that apparently demands more effort than 90% of her school week. Because nothing says fashion high stakes like sitting in a vinyl booth under questionable lighting, ordering mozzarella sticks.
Dinner cute usually involves something with an actual waistband (pray for us) and maybe even a zipper—a clear sign she means business. The great sneaker debate always follows: are they too casual? Too basic? Too Wednesday energy?
Spoiler: it’s still sneakers. But now they’re paired with sparkly earrings and a carefully curated look of “effortless effort,” which is teen girl for: “I spent 45 minutes deciding on this, but don’t ask me about it.
Out for Ice Cream: The “Low-Key but Make it Fashion” Look
And let’s not forget the “out for ice cream” outfit, which somehow has its own category of vibe.
Ice cream isn’t just dessert in Myrtle Beach—it’s a social event, a soft serve safari, and sometimes a runway show, depending on who rolls up in their parents’ golf cart.
This look is all about faking effort. We’re talking casual, but not “just woke up” casual—more like “Pinterest board titled ‘Effortless Summer Vibes’” casual. Think oversized sweatshirt that was “borrowed” from my closet three months ago and never seen again, paired with leggings that absolutely were not designed for exercise, but have the word “athletic” somewhere in the branding so they count.
Hair? It’s giving “messy bun,” but like…the kind you practice. The sunglasses aren’t for sun protection—they’re a fashion statement, perched perfectly on top of the head like a tiara made of teen indifference.
And while I’m not allowed to speak during this sacred ice cream appearance, I am allowed—no, expected—to fund it. Bonus points if she spots someone she knows while holding a cone and posing like she wasn’t waiting 20 minutes to do exactly that.
Because in this house, we don’t just go get a treat. We serve looks and a double scoop.
The Eternal Laundry Blame Game
Now, here’s where the fun really begins: laundry. While it’s technically her job, whenever an essential item is dirty or—gasp—wrinkled, it’s immediately Mom’s fault.
“Mom, those shorts I need for the beach tomorrow? Dirty.”
“Did you wash my crop tops?”
“Where is that one very specific item? I neeeeeeeed it”
“I can’t find my hoodie! No, not that hoodie!”
You’d think I’m running a dry-cleaning service out of the laundry room with how urgent these crises sound. And heaven forbid the ‘perfect shirt’ isn’t crisply wrinkle-free. Clearly, my failure to iron it personally means the whole vibe is shot. Because ya know, if she folded and put the clothes AWAY, they wouldn’t be a wrinkled mess. But I’m here for it. Because I love her.
The Backup Outfit Arsenal
For every planned outfit, there’s a secret stash of backup clothes hidden in the depths of her closet—“just in case the vibe changes.”
These include:
- A hoodie “for emotional support” (translation: for when the AC hits too hard)
- Extra sneakers “in case these get muddy” (even if there’s no rain in sight)
- Three different pairs of sunglasses because “the vibe changes with the sun”
And the beauty supplies bag? Lip gloss, hair ties, eyelash curlers, perfume samples, and enough emergency snacks to fuel a small army.
Meanwhile, Mom’s Outfit Planning
While my teen is orchestrating a full-scale fashion operation—group chats, mood boards, maybe a PowerPoint—I’m over here making selective efforts. Some days, yes, it’s the classic “Is this hoodie technically clean?” gamble. But other days? I show up. Cute sundress? Check. Jean skirt and a flattering top? Absolutely. High heels for dinner? Love them. Bikini at the beach? Still got it, thank you very much.
But no matter what I wear—whether it’s boho mom, sporty mom, or “just tryna survive Tuesday” mom—I still get the same reaction when I ask if I look okay:
“You’re a mom. You’re fine.”
Which is teen code for: “You’re irrelevant to the aesthetic, but also—can you lint roll my hoodie, fix this strap, and iron my shirt while I scream about having ‘nothing to wear’?”
I’m not just a mom—I’m wardrobe support staff, personal tailor, and vibe consultant… who’s apparently expected to blend into the background like a Target mannequin with a coffee stain.
Final Thoughts: Just Roll With It
At the end of the day, all this outfit obsession is really just her way of saying, “I’m figuring out who I am”—and also, “If I stall long enough, maybe the dishwasher will empty itself.”
Me? I’m the unpaid stylist, laundry fairy, and emergency drama negotiator, fueled by equal parts patience, sarcasm, and coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
The truth is, I don’t have to nail the vibe. My job is to keep showing up—gold hoops on, eye roll ready—and somehow make it through the daily fashion circus without losing my mind.