American society can thank the 40s for the creation of the teenager. They were the pinnacle of materialism, designed to be cool, rebellious, and most importantly, lucrative. The entire category, designed by marketing executives cemented the up-and-coming youth culture and created the modern-day teenager. Teen culture has sought to exist separately from the world of adults and children from conception. And since then, its presence has been well received by young people. Fifty years of teenage phenomena made space for the creation of other age groups, most notably the “tweens” of the 90s. Movies like “The Parent Trap” and “The Babysitters Club” were the perfect depiction of what a tween girl was meant to be. She was innocent but adventurous, rarely shying away from a challenge. She was Hallie Parker. With quick remarks but youthful looks, the idea of the tween girl was the perfect bridge to her much more mature older sister. The tween stage was unavoidable for two decades, with most millennials and older gen-z attesting to that fact. The “awkward” tween phase was just part of the American experience. But while the teenager survived to the present day, the tweenager appears to be on its last legs.

Ages nine to thirteen were classified as tween, not quite a teenager, but not exactly a little kid. Instead of embracing the brief in between, we’ve bolted towards true teenage emulation. Heavy makeup and crop tops, previously staples of teens and young women, have shifted to include girls younger than ever. While I find no fault in enjoying makeup, there is a pervasive belief that it has to be worn in an attempt to seem more mature or more beautiful. The need to appear beautiful has led to enough mental health struggles in teenagers, culminating in body image issues, disordered eating, or depression. The fading memory of tween years only extends the reach of such struggles.

Tweens, just like teens, were designed. They didn’t just appear, they were manufactured as a way to sell more products. With the loss of the tween category, the very companies that created the tween are fading as well. In their place, brands that used to cater exclusively to teens and young women are growing to include younger and younger girls. Girls’ fashion has become women’s fashion, with styles usually designed for fully (or almost) grown women coming in sizes that fit your average nine-year-old. There’s nothing inherently sexual about a young girl in a crop top or short skirt. There’s nothing inherently sexual about most clothing, and certainly nothing about young girls. The problem lies elsewhere.

While it’s okay for demographics and their preferences to change, others have to change with it. Unfortunately for most women, the belief that their bodies are a commodity is prevalent and often protected by the law. Girls as young as toddlers have been unable to escape the objectification of their bodies. So while I criticize the maturity of younger girls’ clothing, I recognize that the real problem lies in the way we view girls and their bodies. So a ten-year-old in a crop top should be fine. She should be able to live her life in that crop top solely because she wants to. Not because she feels she has to cater to social standards designated for women much older than her. And she shouldn’t suffer any consequences for choosing to wear that top. No young girl should feel pressure to exist sexually or be seen sexually, willingly or not. As the category that used to act as a shield for young girls fades, it’s our responsibility, not to make another one, but to create a world in which they don’t need a shield. To create a world in which we can exist only as we choose, and not as we feel made to. It’s not our job to reinvent Hallie Parker. It’s our job to make sure that whatever version of her comes next is exactly who she wants to be.