My age? She may talk about age and act as though she's merely worried about what others will think, but what she really means to say is, "If you wear that and any of my friends see you, you will poison my social life. I will forever be known as the daughter of a woman who goes out in public dressed like a pickle. I will spend prom night playing "Go Fish" with my brother and the only scholarship I'll ever see will be to McDonald's University. And I will never marry because all the really great guys will be convinced your sense of style can be traced to shared DNA."

 Up until a couple of years ago, my daughter was content to wear frilly dresses and shorts sets that matched. Then she discovered the Spice Girls and wanted clothes that reflected that influence. She lobbied for a leopard print halter top and leather shorts, which I thought a bit much considering that she was still in third grade.

 On the other hand, my son has gone from Disney character shirts to wanting to wear pants that could double as a parachute in case he's ever pushed out of a plane. He, too, has given up cute for cool.

 But in the process of developing a sense of fashion and their own style, my children have come to regard me with the same degree of horror that most of us save for events such as when our daughter become engaged to an Elvis impersonator. My once worshipful off-spring, who thought I could do no wrong, now inform me that most of my clothes are not in fashion and under no circumstances should I go out in public in them. Public, in this case, means anywhere my children might know someone. The rules, as they have explained them, break down like this:

 I can wear clothes they find humiliating in the privacy of my own home just as long as I don't answer the door or stand in front of a window. If  I do answer the door and it's someone they know, I am to pretend to be the housekeeper. If  I venture out in public in clothes they find humiliating, I am to maintain a respectful distance from my children. The definition of  "respectful" is: far enough away so that they do not appear to be with me, but close enough to supply money, credit cards or a ride, if they need one

 I am to continue purchasing their clothing, but not to have any say in what is bought. I am supposed to mutely slap down the cash to finance my daughter's seven-inch high clogs and shirts that Barbie rejected as being too snug. My son, on the other hand prefers clothes that other fourth-graders tell him are "cool." Nothing I pick out meets that criteria.

 My children are only critical of what I wear -- they pay no attention to their father's wardrobe, which consists of a shirt and tie for work and, for after hours, underwear. No, I don't mean he sits around in his boxers. He sits around in his blue jeans and undershirt. He goes outside in his undershirt and works in the yard. And he occasionally tries to run an errand in his undershirt. Fortunately, he has a wife who catches him as he's about to commit a Fashion Underwear Felony and makes him march back upstairs to put a on real shirt, although he grumbles and fusses about it.

 But do our children, whose current heroes wear clothes that emphasize pierced   belly buttons, care that their father will walk around in a shopping center in his undershirt? No! Instead, they worry I will venture forth in something too bright, too long, too short or too ugly to be in current fashion -- which gives me an idea.

 Since they find my elastic waist pants and knit shirts an affront to their Britney Spears sense of style, perhaps I should adopt a more modern type of dress. Maybe I should rush out and buy pink vinyl hip-huggers, a silver halter top and have my nose pierced. I wonder what they would think if I attended the next PTA meeting dressed like Pamela Sue Anderson gone to seed?

 But I really wouldn't do such a thing to them. They are in a very fragile time in relation to their emotional development and to have their mother walking around school with all her blubber on display would probably destroy their budding social lives. So I think I'll just take a cue from their Dad and spend the better part of the day sitting around the house in my underwear.

 Bet that'll make even one-size-fits all look pretty stylish to them.