Peggy Orenstein has received plenty of positive feedback for her book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, but if she had a nickel for every dismissive “I loved princesses when I was a kid, and I turned out just fine!” she could probably afford to stop working immediately. Hopefully she would keep writing anyway because she’s terrific. She uses current social science research to back her premise that there’s much more to the “princess” culture than frilly dresses and pretty pink merchandise – the particular type of “girl power” being marketed to our youngest young women might not be as harmless as it seems.

Some of the detractors argue that parents are the most important, and that it’s up to us to inoculate our daughters against stereotypical gender weaknesses. Orenstein has been one of those parents; throughout the book she discusses her efforts to provide her own child with strong female role models and to shield her from too much emphasis on beauty and femininity (and Barbie). At these times her writing is conversational, and she questions various possible strategies – Do you buy the Barbie so as not to create a “forbidden fruit” situation? Given their high prices and emphasis on promoting extravagance and consumerism (your doll can dress like you, have her own pony, and attend fancy tea parties with you and your friends), is American Girl much better than the sexed up doll choices? Is there any value in those beauty pageants for little girls?

Let’s imagine that parents are the only critical factor in whether a girl develops an eating disorder or devotes her entire teen years to looking just right for boys. How to keep our daughters from outside influences? Obviously we must home school, and we certainly have to keep them away from television, films, and grocery store magazine displays, lined as they are with boy and beauty advice and plenty of tarted up young “role models.” And music – we have some great female role models in music today emphasizing being true to yourself (P!ink and Lady Gaga come to mind), but these successful women – let’s face it – come in pretty (sexy) packages. A episode of Oprah from earlier this year featuring “Supermodel Legends” showed several aging beauties talking about aging gracefully, denying having work done even though most of their faces looked like they were actually made of plastic.

Orenstein banned Barbie from her home despite her young daughter’s protests. Did she make the right decision? Some argue that Barbie teaches girls that they can be anything they want to be – and she HAS been an astronaut, doctor, teacher, military officer, cowgirl and ice skater over the years. But all she really teaches girls is the importance of beauty and the ability to wear impossible shoes. Not much emphasis in achieving anything you set out to do through hard work and determination. [In the photo below, note the silver platform heels Barbie is supposed to wear with her scrubs.]

Where to find a better role model? Unfortunately, some stories aimed at creating “strong girl” characters give the impression that in order to be pro-girl one has to be anti-boy. For example, in the popular book, The Paper Bag Princess, the prince is a complete jerk – good that our heroine did not choose him, but so much for equality. Orenstein mentions some better choices (she had to search through foreign and hard-to-find sources, for the most part).

The book spends a great deal of time on Disney princesses but hardly mentions Tinkerbell and and her fairy friends – evidently Orenstein’s daughter didn’t have a “fairy phase.” I wish she had given them some time. Tinkerbell and friends dress somewhat provocatively, even more than most of their princess cousins, but they are also shown working and doing things other than pining away for a prince to rescue them.

Another topic that could have used more time is the sport of cheerleading. Aside from the fact that these girls stand at the sidelines while the athletes perform the main event, cheerleaders have been thought of as airheady, shallow, and that other “s” word (rhymes with putty). Today, perhaps as a reaction to the negative stereotypes, cheerleaders are serious athletes, doing tricks and stunts equally dangerous as football plays (although cheerleaders don’t get to wear a suit of armor when they perform). Still, major league football players presumably earn a fraction of the money contracted to the men they cheer for.

A major theme of the book is that parents and their daughters are manipulated by the businesses who market specialty products to girls. We allow our young daughters to dress provocatively while telling those who disapprove that “you have the problem if you think little girls are too sexy these days.” We take our girls to Disneyland in frilly dresses and fancy shoes that limit their ability to run around and “be kids” like their male counterparts (and it’s pretty embarrassing to see how some good parents allow their daughters to dress at Miley Cyrus concerts). Through our purchases, we teach our girls the value of conformity and that there is power in physical perfection (although we do not adequately teach them how to use this power – if there is a right way).

We can say that it’s all innocent fun, but social research paints a different picture. One of the most disturbing parts of Orenstein’s report is that older girls, the ones past the “princess phase” tend to think of themselves in terms of physical appearance instead of other attributes. They are happy when the “know they looked good” and they equate success with outward appearance. So much for “girl power.”

One particularly interesting bit of princess information: After The Princess and the Frog largely tanked at the box office (though the merchandise raked in the cash), Disney rewrote the planned Rapunzel movie – adding a strong male lead – and released it as Tangled. Orenstein finished the book before Tangled was released, and she doesn’t sound too hopeful about the film – I think she would agree that the princess in this story is much stronger than her older sisters (although the frying pan weapons was a bit over the top).

Overall, Cinderella Ate My Daughter is an excellent foundation for further discussion on girls, princesses, and consumerism. Don’t be deterred by the title – this book examines far more than the stars of Disney’s animated features. The “real life” Disney princesses (Miley, Lindsey, Britney, etc.) are also discussed, as well as such unlikely role models as the vampire-loving Bella from the popular Twilight series. Orenstein examines a significant amount of current media, and includes a brief discussion about the online world (where, sadly, girls are still focused on external beauty). This is a must-read for parents and anyone who has any direct influence on girls.

Scroll down for other posts about Cinderella Ate My Daughter:

Review
Part 1: Cinderella Ate My Daughter, by Peggy Orenstein
Part 2: Team Pink
Part 3: I Like the Bad Guys
Part 4: Sluts and Superheroes
Part 5: Girl Power