Am I part of the cure, or am I part of the disease?

Lately for university, I've been reading up on the commercial exploitation and sexualisation of tweens, particularly in terms of dress and appearance. I was thinking about this as I walked into work, and I saw this girl, probably about 11 or 12, walking past in the teeniest top and shorts you can imagine. It barely covered anything. I just automatically kind of rolled my eyes to myself, feeling even more depressed about the state of the world and the products that are shoved in the faces of young girls through the media, whether they like them or not. In that moment, I felt like the most horrible person in the world. What if she had seen my expression? What if she thought I was laughing at her, at her style, at her brands, at her body? I'm sure she already has enough pressure to be perfect; she doesn't need any more of it. No matter what she is wearing, she is still a beautiful, precious daughter of God, and I wish I had made her feel like that.