Princess
I got thinking about princesses. Must have been from walking through the mall, the nearest restrooms to the catgrass shop. An impression of pink fluffiness and pseudo-crowns. Brewing since I saw Little Miss Sunshine. (Recommended with caution.) Then a documentary about Superman. (I never liked Superman.)
I recalled reading about adolescent girls having sexual disfunction or promiscuity related to being rejected at puberty by fathers who had treated them, as little girls, as "daddy's little princess." Mind, this was one study, and I have no way to reference it, or confirm a lightly read article from so long ago. My own father's attitude to my menarche is not to be compared, and I hated him long before. But something about the idea stayed in my head.
The wedding industry has gone nuts, fueled by this princess (Di?) fantasy. Beauty contests and Disney movies. I despair of equality, feminism has been shoved aside in the stampede toward airy royal femininity. I get the appeal, I loved Leslie Ann Warren as Cinderella, confectionary dresses, the sparkly tiaras, clouds of lace and taffeta, satin, silk, velvet. I yearned to be Miss America in a frilly gown. Bellydance scarves fed that need for dress-up, glamour, shine. This is not a rant against playful girlishness.
It's the form. A Princess is a princess because she is the daughter of a king, or the wife of a prince. It is a material, consumerist fantasy, woman as decorative object, dependent, her power only what is given, nothing earned. Not from within herself.
I would change it, without taking away the decoration. To a magical fantasy figure, perhaps, fairy or Kami. At least the tutus and frou-frou would be the costume of their attributes, from within the personality of their imaginations. Not stuff to be bought, nor fake riches to be hoarded. Not display for approval or acceptance, just an expression of flight and softness, bright color and raven love, for it's own sake. Like boys allowed to don superhero capes, let girls fly on magic wings. Not sit around waiting for a prince. Let them outgrow it as they let go of other childhood fantasies.
Would it make that much of a difference? Maybe not. Surely, there will just be more potent marketing, and a "Fairy Princess Day". There will just be more magic wands. Was Bewitched a better idea of how to solve problems, for me as a little girl desperate to blink away my problems? What better stories would both let them play at pretty, without making it a central part of their worth?
What can I offer my two fairygoddaughters, to nourish their imaginations? What small, long distance tools can I send? What would be a blessing? Or just my own tale as Fool of the World?
I recalled reading about adolescent girls having sexual disfunction or promiscuity related to being rejected at puberty by fathers who had treated them, as little girls, as "daddy's little princess." Mind, this was one study, and I have no way to reference it, or confirm a lightly read article from so long ago. My own father's attitude to my menarche is not to be compared, and I hated him long before. But something about the idea stayed in my head.
The wedding industry has gone nuts, fueled by this princess (Di?) fantasy. Beauty contests and Disney movies. I despair of equality, feminism has been shoved aside in the stampede toward airy royal femininity. I get the appeal, I loved Leslie Ann Warren as Cinderella, confectionary dresses, the sparkly tiaras, clouds of lace and taffeta, satin, silk, velvet. I yearned to be Miss America in a frilly gown. Bellydance scarves fed that need for dress-up, glamour, shine. This is not a rant against playful girlishness.
It's the form. A Princess is a princess because she is the daughter of a king, or the wife of a prince. It is a material, consumerist fantasy, woman as decorative object, dependent, her power only what is given, nothing earned. Not from within herself.
I would change it, without taking away the decoration. To a magical fantasy figure, perhaps, fairy or Kami. At least the tutus and frou-frou would be the costume of their attributes, from within the personality of their imaginations. Not stuff to be bought, nor fake riches to be hoarded. Not display for approval or acceptance, just an expression of flight and softness, bright color and raven love, for it's own sake. Like boys allowed to don superhero capes, let girls fly on magic wings. Not sit around waiting for a prince. Let them outgrow it as they let go of other childhood fantasies.
Would it make that much of a difference? Maybe not. Surely, there will just be more potent marketing, and a "Fairy Princess Day". There will just be more magic wands. Was Bewitched a better idea of how to solve problems, for me as a little girl desperate to blink away my problems? What better stories would both let them play at pretty, without making it a central part of their worth?
What can I offer my two fairygoddaughters, to nourish their imaginations? What small, long distance tools can I send? What would be a blessing? Or just my own tale as Fool of the World?
Posted by Zhoen on Saturday, April 21, 2007
9 comments:
A couple of my young cousins are all into this princess thing. I think you just put your finger on what makes me uneasy about it.
Of course, anything Disney does is bound to be evil. They got some attention lately for "the first African-american princess." I'm not sure that's a real milestone in the fight for equality.
There was a kinda cute movie with Drew Barrymore - Ever After - where she plays Cinderella but rescues herself because she's basically more competent than anyone else. I thought it was a nice try at updating the story. She does get the guy too - and why not.
I neither have kids nor am I ever around young ones, so I'm not really up on this. I have heard there are entire stores for buying this crap. It's not just here in the US. There were stores full of girlie crap in Mexico and the quinceñera "sweet 15" thing is huge. I'd be curious about other countries.
Me? If I was getting married again (which I'm not), I'd paint my face with Glucobrassicin (the blue war paint Celts used) and go as Queen Boudicca Now THERE'S a dress up fantasy! And an excellent insight into why I'm not married. Grinning.
Bride's always look like sacrificial virgins in this culture.
I like the Indian custom of wearing a red sari. Juicy.
lj My dear Moira wore red. I had a blue dress, but it was just the best one I had at the time.
Blue warpaint, oh, I like that.
Leslee Nothing wrong with getting the guy, with the good guy as the reward for being oneself. Or, both winning each other.
Dave, Oh, yes, Disney is evil. Very seductive, pretty, evil. You really might like Little Miss Sunshine. Pitch black humor, but only after a long, sly set-up. Which is why I only recommend it with qualifications.
Indeed, indeed. Makes me shiver.
Got married in green.
I think that, because he died young, I may have suffered from not being my father's princess - or some such feminine manifestation that the alpha male confirms for us. I'm uncomfortable with girlie things - flirting, frills, fragility and it makes me feel less of a woman. Mind you, I have kissed a couple of really ace frogs with good results. And I'm afraid I got married in white.
H Green is I believe the traditional Roman color.
Anna, Frogs make good kissers. I think some women are just more frilly. The array of human variation. Some men are frillier than I will ever be. I have a fondness for swirling, shimmering fabric, but little use for lace or ruffles. Go figure.
"Let them outgrow it as they let go of other childhood fantasies."
I'm afraid I've kept quite a few of mine...:)
I agree with you though on the rest of it... How is real life, pride in yourself and a joy for life and individuality to compete with all of those images of perfection and beauty? It's the same with romance...so many women want what they read in a book or see on film. Normal life can be much different...but still as wonderful - But only wonderful when you find what it is you really want in that life for yourself and, if you're very lucky, for you & someone you love.
I'm proud of my tomboy games and preferences, my embracing of animals - toys and real - rather than dolls and babies, and later fantasies of shared heroism with possible lovers. But I do feel now I was too much steered toward ignoring my body, my femaleness/femininity by parents who put no value on such things; consequently, I think, when I grew up and anybody found me remotely attractive I was astonished and unable to exercise much judgement in the matter. I've known other women who've been given more positive physical self-images, by both parents, who seem the stronger for it.
I do despair at how feminism has been completely ditched, baby and bathwater, wood and trees, and we're told it's no longer necessary, the battle's been won, and how rampant consumerism has swept all before, and how its targets are younger and younger.
Yep, me too in green.
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