Tale as Old as Time

Anytime I talk about my side job as a princess for ThePrincessParty.com, everyone always has a guess as to which princess I play. "I bet you're Cinderella," they usually surmise. "You look like a Cinderella." Sometimes they guess others. It turns into a discussion of wigs and costumes, my skill as a balloon artist, and how, though I can play any of the white princesses, yes, I most often play Cinderella. I don't know why people always guess her. Is it just particularly easy to picture me with a broom in my hand waiting on my step-family?

I took one of those quizzes once: Which Disney Princess are You? I can't remember which one they said I was, mostly because when you take one of those online quizzes, it's easy to forge the answer you want. What is my favorite pastime? Reading in my own private library? Swimming with my sea friends? It doesn't take a genius to rig it to give you the princess you want. So whoever I particularly wanted at the time, I'm sure that's the princess I got to be.

But sometimes I do honestly wonder which princess I am most like. Actually, the thought came to me in a weird way the other day. See, last year in my feminism class, we talked all about how princesses are dangerous for young girls because they put all sorts of bad ideas in our heads. Besides glorifying wealth and society, the girls are horribly skinny ("no room for a womb") and promote unrealistic expectations about being swept off our feet, etc, etc.

One story that is particularly psychologically damaging is Beauty and the Beast. It uses the same rationale that keeps women in abusive relationships: it's ok if he's unrefined and has an anger management problem, he needs you and your love will transform him. It's also a classic example of Stockholm Syndrome, a phenomenon where victims of abduction gain a sense of loyalty (or fall in love with) their abductor. So, let's endorse those themes and instill in our young girls the desire to be captured by a monster...because in the end, if you're nice to him, he'll turn into Fabio.

How romantic.

Of course the movie does have it's merits. I mean, after all, how rad is it when the Beast wrecks all those wolves to save Belle or owns Gaston in the end? And if some guy gave me an epic library that housed every book ever printed...well, that's pretty swoon-worthy. The scenery is fantastic, pan shots of the ballroom as the couple dances under the stars, cut to the French countryside at sunset. My heart skips a beat when Belle sings,

I want adventure in the great wide somewhere.
I want it more than I can stand.
And for once I would be grand, to have someone understand.
I want so much more than they've got planned.

Damaging or no, I watched the movie twice today, cried at the end, and thought about maybe dying my hair back to brown. I love fairy tales.

"Are they going to live happily ever after, Mama?"

"Of course, my dear, of course."