Kylie Minogue has added her name and star power to a line of underwear that is really lingerie for 8- to 12-year olds who are really still kids. The Love Kylie Princess undies are cheeky (and when I say cheeky, I mean half-ass hanging-outty), sexy, sassy, marketed to girls and sold at KMart, where one night's babysitting money can get you multiple pairs.

I clearly remember being twelve and begging my mother to let me wear suntan pantyhose with my bobby socks and Keds. OK, so it was a bezillion years ago and I was still secretly playing with Barbies. My mother refused. No negotiations, no further discussion. And then she saw a group of girls from my class, all boobs and boyfriends and, of course, suntan panthose. She gave in. She probably knew that I wouldn't be wearing a bra for years, so the nylons were one little step in the direction of womanhood. While I may have jumped at the chance to put my little skinny pre-pubescent booty into a pair of sassy panties back then, I know my mom would have promptly tossed them from the laundry. One little step was one thing for a girl. Frederick's for 'Tweens? I think not.

This pre-breast bud sexualization of girls is disturbing and unecessary for anything other than mass marketers making even more money. I am pretty sure we all know this. Well, except for cash-counting Kylie Minogue and the folks dreaming up glittery intimates for kids who can barely multiply double digit numbers. Of course, the 'tween thing is normalized because girls have already amassed enough images of how and why their (eventual) boobs, (bare) bellies and (bumpin') booties are attention-getting in the form Bratz dolls and other ridiculous products pushed from kindergarten on.

While there are some amazing and empowering programs for girls, we all know it takes a hell of a lot of programming to outshine the allure of big-star promotion of near-thongs and hooker baby dolls. It pisses me off that the natural and normal evolution of girls' sexuality and self-image is interrupted by and preyed upon and I know it doesn't do any of us -- especially girls at a very vulnerable age -- any good at all. I just wish we could go back to the good old days, when purchasing your first fancy underthings from Victoria's Secret was momentous and exciting, and saved for prom. Not to play dress-up for your bat mitzvah.