My Princess Problem
I don’t care for princesses. Sure, I’ve seen the Disney movies and don’t have any particular beef with the female heroines – I just prefer a scrappy Little Orphan Annie to the passive Sleeping Beauty. I chose not to swath my baby girl’s room in pink or to buy clothing and accessories with “Princess” emblazoned on it. I thought by doing so I had put the kibosh on my princess problem. I was very, very wrong.
I’ve come to learn that the prevailing princess culture is impossible to avoid as the mother of a baby girl.
When I walk into my local Wal-Mart, I’m surrounded by blond-haired, blue-eyed princesses plastered on pink tricycles, pink toys, pink pajamas, pink everything. As I dig through the toy bins trying to find a non-princess-themed ball for Lana, a stranger walks by and says, “What a pretty little princess you have there!” And then this catalog arrives in my mail last week, its cover the visual illustration of almost all my pet peeves (only the vanity license plate is missing). I suppressed my gag reflex and turned the page to look for “Lil’ Princess” alternatives, only to find the next four pages filled with “Lil’ Quarterback” and “Lil’ Slugger” designs in various shades of blue and brown.
When did this rigid segregation of boy and girl begin? Why is it completely impossible for me to purchase an athletic-inspired toy for my daughter without settling for something designed specifically for a boy? What do I do when Lana grows up enough to develop her own preferences, and inevitably becomes obsessed with the pink princess wares? Is there really any harm in it, or am I just pushing Lana toward my own interests in the same way that other moms encourage participation in cheerleading and beauty pageants?
That’s a lot of questions, I know. In my quest for answers, I stumbled upon an interesting article in the New York Times Magazine titled, “What’s Wrong With Cinderella?” by Peggy Orenstein. In it, the likeminded author examines her own reservations with princess culture and the brilliant marketing of princess products by Disney and other companies. According to Orenstein, Disney’s “Princess” line is not only the fastest-growing brand the company has every created, but it is also on its way to becoming the largest girls’ franchise on the planet.
Despite her personal opinions, Orenstein offers a complete examination of the princess craze and its origins. She notes that:
She also examines other studies that warn of detrimental effects for girls who are encouraged to “have it all,” but instead feel pressured to be it all – athletic, smart, strong, and adorable.
The conclusion appears to be that there are no real answers, that princess may be just the first of many contradictions our daughters will invariably face while growing up female. The best we can do is love them, support them, and hope that their generation succeeds in finding more answers than their mothers and grandmothers before them.
I’ve come to learn that the prevailing princess culture is impossible to avoid as the mother of a baby girl.
When I walk into my local Wal-Mart, I’m surrounded by blond-haired, blue-eyed princesses plastered on pink tricycles, pink toys, pink pajamas, pink everything. As I dig through the toy bins trying to find a non-princess-themed ball for Lana, a stranger walks by and says, “What a pretty little princess you have there!” And then this catalog arrives in my mail last week, its cover the visual illustration of almost all my pet peeves (only the vanity license plate is missing). I suppressed my gag reflex and turned the page to look for “Lil’ Princess” alternatives, only to find the next four pages filled with “Lil’ Quarterback” and “Lil’ Slugger” designs in various shades of blue and brown. When did this rigid segregation of boy and girl begin? Why is it completely impossible for me to purchase an athletic-inspired toy for my daughter without settling for something designed specifically for a boy? What do I do when Lana grows up enough to develop her own preferences, and inevitably becomes obsessed with the pink princess wares? Is there really any harm in it, or am I just pushing Lana toward my own interests in the same way that other moms encourage participation in cheerleading and beauty pageants?
That’s a lot of questions, I know. In my quest for answers, I stumbled upon an interesting article in the New York Times Magazine titled, “What’s Wrong With Cinderella?” by Peggy Orenstein. In it, the likeminded author examines her own reservations with princess culture and the brilliant marketing of princess products by Disney and other companies. According to Orenstein, Disney’s “Princess” line is not only the fastest-growing brand the company has every created, but it is also on its way to becoming the largest girls’ franchise on the planet.
Despite her personal opinions, Orenstein offers a complete examination of the princess craze and its origins. She notes that:
“There are no studies proving the playing princess directly damages girls’ self-esteem or dampens other aspirations. On the other hand, there is evidence that young women who hold the most conventionally feminine beliefs – who avoid conflict and think they should be perpetually nice and pretty – are more likely to be depressed than others…What’s more, the 23 percent decline in girls’ participation in sports and other vigorous activity between middle and high school has been linked to their sense that athletics is unfeminine.”
She also examines other studies that warn of detrimental effects for girls who are encouraged to “have it all,” but instead feel pressured to be it all – athletic, smart, strong, and adorable.
“In telling our girls they can be anything, we have inadvertently demanded that they be everything. To everyone. All the time.”
The conclusion appears to be that there are no real answers, that princess may be just the first of many contradictions our daughters will invariably face while growing up female. The best we can do is love them, support them, and hope that their generation succeeds in finding more answers than their mothers and grandmothers before them.
Labels: parenting
posted by Guest at Thursday, July 12, 2007
2 Comments:
When my 5 year old son was born, I was determined to avoid forcing stereotypes upon him. I didn't remove dolls from his hands and replace them with footballs or baseballs.
Although it was difficult, I held my tongue when at two he claimed that pink was his favorite color and Barbie his favorite movie. He also told all who would listen that he wanted to be a princess when he grew up.
However, this phase ended the moment that he saw his first Power Rangers episode. Pretty soon his favorite color was green (as in Bridge aka Power Ranger Green). Today, he no longer watches Barbie. He also tells everyone that he wants to be an army man when he grows up (which makes the vocation of princess seem much more appealing in hindsight).
I think that ultimately kids grow into what they were born to be. I doubt that he loves the Power Rangers simply because television tells him to. Nor do I believe that his little girlfriend wears her ballet outfit simply because mommy wants it that way.
I don't believe that all gender issues are the result of societal pressure. Ultimately, there is something inherently "girly" about little girls and "boyish" about little boys and that's OK.
As long as they are comfortable knowing that the choices they make are their own, then a laissez fair approach by parents is probably for the best. Don't worry. Just because she's your little princess now doesn't mean that she won't be cross checking someone into the boards twenty years down the road.
here, here Jennifer! I'm with you. Why must a 'princess complex' be pushed up little girls? What happened to each finding their own identity and using their imaginations?!
Oh, and there are non princess decorations for the 1st birthday. Though Layla did end up have pink it was not princess themed :)
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