I wanna be a princess!

Last week on Yahoo, I read about the ” princess problem.” Since I don’t have children, I’m rarely interested in any subject that involves kids. But this issue, however, caught my attention. While I was aware that millions of little girls loved princesses, I had no idea of how prevalent this princess phenomena was. I was aghast and appalled, as I did more online research on this topic. I was dismayed to discover that not only did young ladies yearn to be princesses, but that it was an actual “lifestyle” – for many girls.

I’d previously and naively, thought that only adults had “lifestyles,” not anyone underneath the age of five. Wrong. Apparently, there are girls who are “replicents” of Rapunzel. I further learned that there are parents who encourage this bedazzled behavior. Fortunately, there are an equal amount who are adamantly opposed to it. I applauded one father who gave his child “princess time.” She was allotted a period of time each day, to play princess. During her, “her Highness” reign – she preened and paraded her princess “status.” But when her wise father said, “Time for dinner, honey,” the princess was temporarily “dethroned.” Unlike most “real” royalty, this kid had to do her chores, and finish her homework.

This fairytale frenzy has reached mammoth proportions; there are entire industries, catering to the “princess-in-training.” Don’t think that raising a princess is easy, ‘cuz it ain’t. She’ll require all of the princess paraphenalia, and it won’t come cheap. You’ll have to shell out some big bucks, to outfit your “Cinderella.” And this “Cinderella” won’t be schlepping around her “castle” wearing white sneakers and jeans. Fuck no! But no worries, mom and dad; type in a search for: princess sites for girls, and you’ll be inundated with enough pink frilly crap, to last her until she’s thirty – and finally able to purchase a pink pair of Manolos. On her own.

But then again, maybe not. Perhaps her princess phase will have become not just a phase, but a phrase – that defines who she is and what she does. Before you know it, your former dimpled darling is now a demanding diva. She’s “graduated” with flying honors from “Princess School,” and has grown up to become a mean “queen,” whenever she doesn’t get her own way. Which isn’t often. She’s likely living an affluent “lifestyle,” which allows her to continue to “rule.” If she’s fortunate, she’s attracted a “little prince,” who comes complete with his own “mirror, mirror on the wall…,” in which to admire his regal reflection. He’ll buy her not only mucha Manolos, but a Mercedes and mansion, too.

Will they live “happily ever after?” I doubt it. They’re each so obsessed with their narcissistic princess and prince personas, that they can’t connect with anyone, including themselves. All of those years of parents scrapping by, in order to buy their pampered princesses pricey products – have created not a princess but a servant; a servant who slaves to surround herself with superficial status symbols. She rules over her roost and staff: her husband children, chef, maid and gardener – expecting obedience, and generous gifts on Mother’s Day. And someday, when her little girl starts whining for princess gear – she’ll surprisingly, say no. She needs all of her hoarded, household money to satisfy the most important person in her life: herself. That eensy plastic surgery procedure, will cost a bundle. But a princess needs to save her face, in order to someday save face.

I never wanted to become a princess. But if I were forced to choose one, the only princess that I’d ever entertain being is, She-Ra: the “princess of power.” She possesses speed, agility, healing abilities, and can telepathically communicate with animals; she’s my kinda princess. And judging by the image, she looks like she’s about to have a heroically hot time.

~ by kissandkvell on May 26, 2009.