Skirtgate?

A few years back, I remember walking to primary school with my daughter when she observed quite loudly how short the “big girls” wore their skirts. 

Of course, she was never going to do that. 

She is now 13 and I found myself musing about how I used to roll up my skirt in the vague hope that reverse psychology might mean she took hers down a roll or two. 

I obviously wasn’t the only one. The parent WhatsApp group blew up one day after a teacher handed out a number of detentions for “infringing the uniform policy”.

I was merrily ignoring this when I got a message from my daughter asking about the iron and scissors. 

While she’d been off that day, the bush telegraph was working well. As I walked in the door, she proudly held up her skirt and the two inches of material that she’d cut off it telling me not to worry – it was still closer to her knees than her hips (phew!?!).

To be fair, she stopped ironing when “only a little bit” had gone shiny and also had a go at hemming it with almost the right coloured thread. 

There was no way that sucker would have been coming undone on its own. I know, because I then took an hour to unpick it. She’d forgotten to hide the raw edge and I’m not quite sure what the stitch was that she looked up on YouTube but it wasn’t subtle. 

On the bright side, she made dinner during the great unpick, and I managed to sneak an extra centimetre closer to her knees!