OK, I've now left two posts hanging - the gingerbread one and a new one about some cookies I-man and I made last week that were biiiitchiiiiin (imagine I sang that all high-pitched). I'll do those soon, hopefully.
But since everyone keeps asking me what I think of this "Cinderella Ate my Daughter" anti-princess book that just came out, I guess I might as well get down a few thoughts on it. As an aside, I originally thought the book was some kind of awesome zombie/fairytale crossover, and was very much interested in reading it. Imagine my disappointment. Braaaaaaiiiiinssss! Tiarrrraaaaaasss!
Evidently the author is doing the rounds on TV, which I missed completely (much like the whole "How to Be a Grand High Chinese Bitch So Your Child Makes Straight A's But May Eventually Stab You In Your Sleep" brouhaha a few weeks ago). But in general it seems to be that there is a "new" culture of super girliness going around, spearheaded of course by the evil overlords at Disney, that makes our female children demand to be dressed in pink at all times and addressed as a princess and catered to and blah blah blah. The book offers no solutions to help a hapless parent counter this onslaught.
Since I am not a girly-girl, and I do have a female child, people seem to think I might have some kind of outrage about this issue. But here's the thing: I don't. Despite the fact that we've taken the wee one to Disney World a few times and made wonderful memories, I recognize that The Mouse is there to make money. No money= no funding for Pixar or theme parks or Imagineers. I figure out how much money I am comfortable giving The Mouse in exchange for entertainment from Jessie, Tangled or the Haunted Mansion, and that's that. Sure, sometimes we go overboard and end up with a whole set of Cars-themed Matchboxes to race around our Ikea play carpet, but indulgences like that hardly worry me in the grand scheme of things. (And yes, oftentimes she'll go a several days at a time dressed as Buzz Lightyear, zooming around and requesting I "say the words" for Zurg. And in my defense, I bought the costume secondhand (but new in box, booyah!) for $2.)
But those are toys for BOYS, people say. Bullshit. Those are toys based on well-written, witty films (although with Cars, the premise was so silly we avoided it for years), that are accessible to both boys and girls. Sure, the Disney marketing machine has separated the playthings by gender, but that's to make sure they cast the widest net to pull in as many dollars from as many families as possible. Again, I understand that's just business, just Mickey Taggart intent on building his intercontinental railroad. Nothing to see here, move along. {Insert Walt/Galt line here}
So the Princesses. The Princesses. What's to be done about these princesses? When I was 7, my aunt found a dress pattern like the "make it pink! make it blue!" dress from Sleeping Beauty, and for my birthday that year we made it together. The experience was wonderful, the dress beautiful, and I have such grand memories of spending time with her making that magical dress. Apparently it is appalling to Disney that people might have HOME-MADE replicas of their costumes, so they launched this branded line of Princess schwag to address that perceived need. And as they make several BILLIONS of dollars a year doing it, I'd say their market research was spot-on. But hey, not everyone has an aunt Julie.
So you have a daughter and she is demanding pink Disney Princess dresses and tiaras and movies and lip gloss and purses and related supplemental shit. And this bothers you, because you feel it may (1. give her unrealistic expectations about life and her place in it (2. set a dangerous precedent about one's perceived value being based on looks and bling (3. teach your daughter that only a handsome Prince Charming can save her from an average, boring life (4. eventually turn her into a slutty, poorer, trashier version of Miley Cyrus/Lindsay Lohan/Demi Lovato, or (5. do any combination of the above.
So, here is your silver bullet, the answer you have waiting to hear: just don't buy it for her. You are an ADULT, your child is a CHILD. Just say no. Decide to limit the exposure, or hell, opt out completely if you feel that strongly about it. So your kid whines and cries and says it's not FAIR and she's not your FRIEND. Tough noogies, pipsqueak. If your kid is smart/old enough, explain your problems with it, and provide alternate games/toys/costumes. If your kid is stupid, well, might as well buy her the shiny sparkly shit and get her on the Mickey Mouse Club. Maybe she'll be the next Britney.
Now, I understand that some girls are just girly. Girly girly girly. This is nothing new, no matter how much this book would love for you to think it's an invention of the Walt Disney Company and Mattel. There are girls who would rather die than play in the dirt (some boys, too), and pulling the plug on their royal dreams might prove to be dramatic. For a lot of kids, the whole princess/fairy/tulle encrusted world thing is just a phase, but I know a lot of adult women who hold on to it a lot longer than they should and pass it on to their kids. They aren't reading this book, though, because they're too busy waiting for a callback from Toddlers & Tiaras.
Just because a kid is obsessed with pink and princesses and sparkles doesn't automatically mean she'll turn into a 9-year-old eyeliner-wearing mallrat and then an entitled and out-of-touch 17-year-old. But it's worth paying attention to, just in case. I'm a firm believer in stopping bad behavior as early as possible; no matter how headstrong a four year old is, she can't hold a candle to a hormonal teenager. As a parent it is your job to weigh the risks, consider the options, and make tough decisions and stick with them for the good of your kid. Sometimes it sucks to be the heavy, but them's the breaks.
So in our world, this translates to moderation. Sure, there are some princess-branded items in the mix, but how do you even "play" princess? Dress up and look pretty? That gets boring to my miniature Space Ranger pretty damn fast. Did she want to meet Tinkerbell at DisneyWorld? Sure, we waited in line for that, but it didn't hold a candle to dancing with Woody or revving up with Lightning McQueen. (We also got to meet Vidia, the bitchiest fairy...why do they even have her there? Don't hug my kid, I don't want your picture.)
What it all boils down to is media literacy. Little kids don't know they're being marketed to. As a parent, it is your job to be savvy enough to shield them from this, and teach them the difference between forming their own opinions and having them spoon-fed by those who stand to make a profit. Do we watch television? Sometimes, and never anything with commercials. Why? Because a three-year old lacks the ability to make the distinction between fact and crap. And when the shows themselves (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Dora, Spongebob, etc) are basically extended advertisements for merchandise, that's another reason to limit exposure. Again, this is nothing new...I have warm & fuzzy feelings about Rainbow Brite, a cartoon character from the 80s, but she was owned and marketed by Hallmark as a way to squeeze money out of kids.
But then again, tonight my child asked me for a cake shaped like a dalek. So I may have no clue either. At least we're having fun, and not choking on pink tulle.
