Last summer, my husband fell into the habit of bringing trashy celebrity rags home from his work trips. We’d skim through them, play the who-had-Botox game, and invariably we’d throw them onto the coffee table pile. Call me clueless, but I never imagined that US Weekly would turn the head of my then six year old. She would pore over every image with an alarming intensity, asking questions about people’s hair color choices or why they wear so much makeup. We were a little ashamed of ourselves, and my husband started throwing them directly into the recycling bin before our daughter could see them. Now we know not to leave GQ with the controversial Glee cover on the kitchen table, so we’re not entirely out-to-lunch, but it never even occur to me to hide Vogue. When she saw the September issue, she pored over every page. I know this is a child who is preternaturally aware of fashion, but I still don’t feel entirely comfortable with her reading women’s fashion magazines. Am I being overprotective, or am I simply compensating for previously having under-parented?