My niece arrived for spring break in a gust of East Coast velocity: dropped her suitcase in the foyer, clicked it open, pulled out her , and before I could ask whether she wanted something to eat, she was already halfway out the door to see an underground band somewhere downtown. Seventeen, apparently, is knowing exactly where the night is before the adults have found the dinner forks. This morning, the boarding-school layers began to peel away and out emerged a fully different girl: , (above), borrowed , , below, that look like , and a running dispatch on Silver Lake beauty anthropology. “All the eastside girls have micro bangs,” she reported, with the authority of a visiting correspondent, already deciding whether she is brave enough. Now she’s off again, this time to a film festival at her former high school, which apparently requires a red-carpet moment. Somehow this has spiraled into me standing in front of my own closet wondering whether I too need a with a point of view along with this , below, and !). Ah, the life stage where your niece’s plans send you shopping for yourself feels unexpectedly correct! Happy Friday!