Sometimes it seems like she stepped out of a different era– a softer, sweeter more innocent time. At ten, Zoey has no interest in tween trends, she loves her dolls, her old-fashioned stories, tea parties and gorgeous white dresses with blue satin sashes.
Adored by all who know her, Zoe delights us with her slight British accent and absolute lack of guile. She begged her mother for this dress, reasoning that it would be the perfect Easter/recital/farewell gown. I agree (but I always agree with buying extravagant dresses).
For more generations than I know, my mother’s family carried a tradition of naming daughters, Zoe, Ruth, Zoe, Ruth…
she wears her name perfectly.