When I was a boy, I wanted to be a pilot. I also wanted to be a cop, the Hulk, a goat, Erin Gray and the little person from Fantasy Island. I called him "the plane," but I'm guessing now he went by a different name. In high school, I dreamed of being Keanu Reeves from Point Break, so it should surprise no one I never went to prom.
The point is, I went through phases. All kids do. So it's not going to bother me when my daughter, Emmeline, one day declares her desire to be a princess. What's really going to kill me is the subtle marketing manipulation that goes into exactly what type of princess she might want to be -- and how much it costs to become one.
In the recent New York Times Magazine article -- "What's Wrong with Cinderella?" -- author Peggy Orenstein struggles with feminist ideals in the Era of Pink. She also uncovers the reason behind the Disney princess phenomenon. His name is Andy Mooney. That's right -- girls throughout the country are dressing up in princess pinks and purples, they're wearing princess tiaras and princess gowns, they're sleeping in princess bedding and they're waking up to princess alarm clocks all because a mid-level executive in an entertainment conglomeration had a princess epiphany. At "Disney on Ice." Seriously.
"We simply gave girls what they wanted," Mooney said, "Although I don't think any of us grasped how much they wanted this."
But why do they want it from Disney? Isn't "being" a princess all about pretending? Whatever happened to imagination? Do girls really need the princess faux fur coat and muff ($49)? The princess puffer jacket with bag ($60)? Or the Princess wrap bracelet ($300!)? And what's with the paparazzi hating drunken princess chauffeur who "knows" his way around Paris? (OK, that was mean.)
I'm all for the royalty phase. I don't see how wearing pink and ordering daddy around will set feminism back. I just want my kid's tiara to be like those worn by real princesses. You know, free.
