I will be the first to say that I am not materialistic. My friends label me as a goody-goody; my parents say I am conservative and modest when it comes to clothes. I don’t wear bikinis, and none of my skirts or shorts end above my knees. That is my choice.

So why, why did I feel so tempted and peer pressured to be one of them? My family and I were in Target, and there it was, waiting. A skirt, specifically designed not to cover anything. It was tan and looked like something one of those anime schoolgirls would wear.

I checked my purse. The skirt cost $10. I had the money. I could buy it. I imagined walking into school and my pals’ jaws dropping. Guys would ask me out, and all I wanted in my childhood would be fulfilled. I could buy it – no, I will buy it.

I showed my mother. She was surprised but said I was old enough to make my own decision. My sister looked on enviously.

I went into the dressing room to try it on. So sure was I that this skirt would change me, somehow make me not what I am, but what I wished to be. I slid my jeans off and put it on. Now for the decisive moment. I looked in the mirror and there I was – a geeky girl in a Superman T-shirt and sneakers. My glasses fogged up as I started to cry. My world crushed right in front of me.

The skirt did not change me. Though it fit well and might make me look good in the eyes of ­today’s world, it was not me. I am not a girl who flirts or wears cool clothes to fit in.

I took the thing off and slid back into the ­comfort of modesty. My mom knocked on the door. “Emily, are you okay?”

I wiped away my tears and hid my disappointment well. “I’m fine.” I looked in the ­mirror again and saw a blond skinny girl with dorky ­glasses and a ponytail. The same one that was wearing those shorts.

I saw myself.