No one in my house is more excited about the upcoming Royal Wedding than I am.
Image from People.com
(I know this is hard to believe, what with Brynleigh not knowing what a wedding is and Ben’s not caring and all, but it’s true.)
People, I’m even dreaming about it. sigh.
But seriously, all this “Her Royal Highness” talk has me thinking a lot about princesses lately, and trying to sort out my feelings on the topic.
I think lots of little girls go through a princess phase. Honestly, I’m still in mine, at least in the sense that I love pink and sparkles – but that’s about as far as it goes. For so many girls, though, “princess” means more than pink and sparkles; it means entitlement. It means “I want;” it means “I deserve.” It means trips to the nail salon while still in preschool, and umpteen pairs of $50+ jeans from stores that used to cater to a college crowd (American Eagle, I’m looking at you), but are now frequented by tweens and middle schoolers. You realize this is why they sell ridiculously tiny sizes like 00 and XXS now, right?
A couple of months ago, I read an article called “Little Girls Gone Wild: Why Daughters Are Acting Too Sexy, Too Soon“. In it, the writer cites Peggy Orenstein, author of the book Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches From the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. Orenstein makes the case for all of this nonsense beginning with Disney princesses. From the article:
“Princesses are just a phase,” Orenstein writes, but they mark a girl’s “first foray into the mainstream culture…. And what was the first thing that culture told her about being a girl? Not that she was competent, strong, creative, or smart but that every little girl wants — or should want — to be the Fairest of Them All.”
Then the article goes on:
What begins with Cinderella is followed, once girls hit grade school, by less innocent stuff: TV programs like Hannah Montana and iCarly, which center around eye-rolling, miniskirt-clad girls whose idea of success is being a rock diva or a reality star. Their rapt audience — most in the 6-to-11-year-old demographic — follows the shows and the offscreen lives of their stars with wide-eyed curiosity. And then so many of those tween idols — girls such as Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, even Miley [Cyrus]— wind up as premature sex symbols, headed for a fall. … Now our 24-hour news cycle brings their skimpy outfits and crazy antics straight into our homes, where our kids can get a load of them.
Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to parent your daughter. The reason I’m sharing this at all is because I’ve always had an aversion to princess things as far as Brynleigh is concerned, and I’ve never been able to explain why it bothered me so much. I know it’s going to be weird to some people, and that’s okay – I’m just so relieved to be able to put words to my feelings, and that’s why I’m writing about them. I am really uncomfortable with the way young teen girls present themselves – both in appearance and behavior – these days, and this explanation makes sense to me. And no, I don’t think it was always like this (see: extra extra small).
Some people can do things that other people can’t and they turn out just fine. Case in point: I can’t watch horror movies or television shows like Heroes or LOST. Period. They give me terrible nightmares, and I’m unable to draw a line between reality and fiction. I know they’re just supposed to be stories, but I can’t make my head believe that they’re not true. It’s dangerous ground for me, but I know plenty of people who watch this stuff and enjoy it immensely. You make the decisions that are best for you and your family, and that’s the end of it as far as I’m concerned.
My point in saying that is this: There’s a fine line between feeling empowered and feeling entitled, and I think our culture – especially as reflected in the media – encourages girls to embrace the entitled end of the spectrum. For us, for our family, it’s just better that we don’t walk that line at all.
So, in our house, there’s no princess stuff (unless you count the aforementioned pink and sparkles). Brynleigh doesn’t watch non-educational shows, we don’t pretend to be princesses, we don’t call her our “Princess” or buy any clothing with “Daddy’s Little Princess” or tiaras or other royal paraphernalia on it. We don’t own a tutu. The cutest sippy cup I’ve ever seen came in a two-pack, but the other cup had princess stuff on it, so it stayed at the store.
When I compliment or praise my little girl – and I do, often! – I tell her how smart she is, how kind she is, how helpful and sweet she is, how good she is at solving puzzles and counting and saying her letters…and then I tell her she’s beautiful. It’s not that I don’t think she’s gorgeous; I just want to make sure she knows she’s valuable for so many other reasons, too.
I really like the version of “princess” that Kate Middleton represents. She’s confident, savvy, and independent. She’s about to become the wife of the future King, and while we don’t know much about their private lives – a fact I also really appreciate – it’s clear that William sees her as more than just a pretty face for a postage stamp somewhere down the line. She’s well-educated and has a good head on her shoulders. She’s not just going to be his wife; I think she’ll end up being a confidante and advisor – and not just on what to wear to an upcoming charity function, but on matters of State as well. She doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him or his position.
And she’s gorgeous, and she gets to wear all the pink and sparkles she wants.
I love that.
Pssst! In case you’re interested in reading more about how I feel about little girls and the princess mentality, here’s an opinion article from CNN: “Parents, don’t dress your girls like tramps“
The Seifipour Family 