I tried. Really, I did.
I bought my daughter trucks and cars. I dressed her in jeans and tee shirts of little girls dressed as astronauts. I encouraged her fascination with bugs and dinosaurs. I did everything I could, short of eschewing pink and purple all together.
But it’s no use.
No matter how hard I fight it, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, no matter how much I dig in my heels, I’m no match for the Disney Princesses with their big eyes, their perfect hair, and even more perfect bodies.
This all became clear while driving home the other night. My thoughts on Halloween and the realization costumes needed to be decided on, I asked the kids what they wanted to be.
Joseph immediately replied with Jango Fett. Of course. Star Wars is strong in this one.
“And what do you want to be, Elizabeth?”
Clear as a bell, her voice piped up, “Princess.”
“What?”
“I wanna be princess.”
“Princess Leah?”
“No. Pink princess Beauty.”
And with those words, all hopes of avoiding the rising tide of Disney princesses were dashed against the rocks of corporate advertising and marketing campaigns. I recalled an earlier conversation between my two children.
“Do you want to be a Princess?” Joseph asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you have to be beautiful and a dragon has to try to eat you except a Prince will save you,” he said sagely.
“Okay,” replied my innocent two-year-old.
“But don’t worry,” her brother assured her. “You’re cute. You’ll be fine.”
Maybe I can talk her into being a young Queen Elizabeth…
