Not just for adults anymore.

I know this is strange. But I really think Tim Gunn and Emily Post have reincarnated themselves into teenagers. Tim Gunn is alive, his stylistic eye on the stars. But like the designers making their mark at Target or Kohl’s, he’s figured out how to bring his talent to the people by body hopping. And Miss Post, well I’m sure she has reincarnated into all kinds of fab experts like writers for Miss Manners or emilypost.com. At the moment, the two lifestyle-experts have found their way into the bodies of two teenage boys residing in my house in Lafayette, California.

At first it did not seem so obvious to me. A passing comment from one of the guys, “An Ecco store! We are going to walk in there right now and you are going to return those ugly shoes you are wearing.” Or a cool new t-shirt I love, “You are NOT going to wear THAT outside of the house are you?” And, “If I had a girlfriend, I would be getting a text from one girl. Two girls are texting me so they are my FRIENDS.”

My education of the teenage world is ramping up and my boys are training me how to behave, dress and speak to avoid embarrassment, mostly theirs. Almost daily I am critiqued on something. It’s not all negative. I get positive feedback when I do things right. My husband and I find the assessments curious. I consider the whole thing entertaining and like a window into their window of the parent-of-a-teenager world.

I suppose I started it. Sometimes I can’t tell if one shoe looks better than the other. Or which earring over another is better with my dress. The guys actually have a pretty good eye so I ask for input. And I’ll do the same for them; I’ll tell them if the grey t-shirt looks ok under the red plaid flannel shirt. Or, without prompting I’ll offer “Too much action Jackson” when I see a busy graphic tee with a pair of plaid shorts and a Rasta colored belt. I tell them over and over to put their napkin on their lap. And don’t grip your silverware like a cave man holding a drumstick.

Recently, the critiques culminated into one event and I knew my boys had been hi-jacked, especially my youngest son. He attended cotillion, an old-fashioned dance class designed to educate the young on polite and proper courting. Parent-volunteers help with check-in and crowd control. My number came up for the last class and I informed Alex of my upcoming duty.

His knee-jerk reaction: “Mom. Don’t dance with anybody.” Sometimes the numbers are uneven and a parent has to step in to balance it out.

“What do I do?”

“Work check-in only.”

“Then what do I do when I’m finished?”

“Just talk to other moms in the back. Don’t dance.” Emily ALEX Post had spoken.

The Pick.

It’s a dress-up night so I let him choose the skirt. He picked a black and white understated, under-the-radar number. I paired it with a black wool sweater and black tights and boots. I modeled for him to get clearance. “Wait a second. Is that the sweater with holes in it?” asked Tim ALEX Gunn. Earlier I had an old ratty sweater on in the frigid house. Who cares what I wear to cook and clean? Give me some credit. I did train you.

For the evening, I did as instructed. I checked kids in and stayed in the back. I talked to my friends and had a great time. I barely noticed what the kids were doing and I think they barely notice what I was doing. So I thought. Afterward, I got my unsolicited assessment. “Mom. You did a good job tonight.” Wow! Mom passes muster.

Now, if only Rachel Ray and Molly the Maid could possess my boys.  Do as they do: Cook and clean.  And of course leave mom out completely.