My first cousin’s oldest daughter is getting married on June 4th and we’re already in a tizzy about what to wear.

Yesterday was the Oh So Feisty One’s turn to tiz over her outfit. OSFO, Diaper Diva and I subwayed into Manhattan, 34th Street to be exact, to look for a dress at Macy’s.

We three determined shoppers made our way to the 8th floor, quickly averting the make-up department where swarms of women converged on us like bees with small bottles of perfume.

Once on the children’s floor, it was clear that 9-year-old OSFO had an extremely clear vision of what she wanted. She scanned all the girl’s party dresses in an instant.   "Most of these are too princessy," she said as she quickly walked dismissively from one display area to the next.

And she was right. Too frilly, too frothy, too fro frou, most of the dresses were more suited for  Easter service at church than a sophisticated Baltimore wedding. As far as OSFO was concerned, they were way, way off base

But then we found the tween prom dress department (that seems the best way to describe it). "How about this one?" I said holding a yellow and green patterned dress. "Too fruity," she said. And this one? "Not right for a wedding." she said with an assurance way past her years.

"What about these?" I asked holding up two or three perfectly acceptable choices. "I like them. But not for this wedding."

This wedding? I wondered.

Then she made a bee-line for a dress—a cross between a ballet tutu and something a tad more burlesque. Tight black elasticized top, light pink, tulle skirt with an uneven hem. Diaper Diva looked a little skeptical.

I knew it would be either really great or completely tacky.

OSFO and I crowded into the small dressing room with a thicket of hangered dresses. Diaper Diva was dispatched to the shoe department to search for appropriate shoes. The sexy tutu was the first thing OSFO wanted to try. Tight on the top, frilly on the bottom, it actually looked pretty terrific. We pinned up her hair and she was a vision to behold. "I think this might be it." I thought to myself. But OSFO looked at herself quizzically.

"What does slutty mean?" she asked staring at herself in the 3-way mirror. Ah. Ah. Ah. I stalled not sure what to say. "Why do you ask?" I stammered.

"Because I heard Diaper Diva whisper that the dress might be slutty," she said.

"Oh. She meant…sexy," I said nervously, OSFO continue to stare at herself in the mirror and then  pulled the dress over he head and reached for another hanger. And so it went, dress after dress.

"Nope," she said pulling off a pink dress that looked utterly beautiful. Finally, a white chiffon dress with faded flowers met her approval. "I’ll need the right shoes," she said.

But still she persevered. A half hour later, the room was awash in inside-out dresses as a  half-naked girl surveyed the mess.

"I like these two," she said picking two out of the pile. "One for the wedding. One for the dinner party the night before." she said decisively. Where she got the idea that there might be a dinner party the night before I don’t know. She’s probably right.

Truth is,  she selected the two most perfect dresses – and the sexy tutu wasn’t even in the running.

No big fights, no fits, no yelling matches. It wasn’t what I expected at all. A trip to a department store was usually pretty traumatic for me as a child. My mother always had strong ideas about what I could and could not wear. And trips to the dressing room were always a self-referendum on what I mostly didn’t like about the way I looked.

I’ve always given OSFO more choice than I ever had. Consequently, she’s much more comfortable with her own sense of style and the way that she looks.

She tried on every pink shoe in the shoe department and settled on a pair of jeweled pink slides. My girl. She does know what she likes and she’s damn good at finding it.