Doing up the buttons on my denim dress, I looked in the mirror and twirled.
‘You look perfect,’ my mum Dawn, then 37, said, tying my hair up in a bow.
‘So do you, Mum,’ I smiled, admiring her matching outfit.
It was 1997 and, aged just 7, I loved it when me and Mum dressed the same.
She'd been finding cute mini-me styles ever since I was a baby.
At a family gathering later that day, everyone commented.
‘You're the mirror image of each other,’ a family friend gushed.
Mum beamed with pride.
Glamorous, with long, dark locks down to her waist, she always looked great, in the latest trends.
My dad, then 39, found it adorable as, after having two boys, my mum had really wanted a little…
