Within a month, Daisy threw a tantrum when I tried to wrestle her into pants. As if by osmosis she had learned the names and gown colors of every Disney Princess - I didn't even know what a Disney Princess was. She gazed longingly into the tulle-draped windows of the local toy stores and for her third birthday begged for a "real princess dress" with matching plastic high heels. Meanwhile, one of her classmates, the one with Two Mommies, showed up to school every single day dressed in a Cinderella gown.
With a bridal veil. What was going on here? My fellow mothers, women who once swore they would never be dependent on a man, smiled indulgently at daughters who warbled "So This Is Love" or insisted on being addressed as Snow White. The supermarket checkout clerk invariably greeted Daisy with "Hi, Princess. Then, shortly after Daisy's third birthday, our high-priced pediatric dentist - the one whose practice was tricked out with comic books, DVDs, and arcade games - pointed to the exam chair and asked, "Would you like to sit in my special princess throne so I can sparkle your teeth?
But honestly: since when did every little girl become a princess? It wasn't like this when I was a kid, and I was born back when feminism was still a mere twinkle in our mothers' eyes. We did not dress head to toe in pink. We did not have our own miniature high heels. What's more, I live in Berkeley, California: if princesses had infiltrated our little retro-hippie hamlet, imagine what was going on in places where women actually shaved their legs? As my little girl made her daily beeline for the dress-up corner of her preschool classroom, I fretted over what playing Little Mermaid, a character who actually gives up her voice to get a man, was teaching her.
On the other hand, I thought, maybe I should see princess mania as a sign of progress, an indication that girls could celebrate their predilection for pink without compromising strength or ambition; that at long last they could "have it all": be feminist and feminine, pretty and powerful; earn independence and male approval.
Then again, maybe I should just lighten up and not read so much into it - to mangle Freud, maybe sometimes a princess is just a princess. I ended up publishing my musings as an article called "What's Wrong with Cinderella? I was entirely unprepared for the response. The piece immediately shot to the top of the site's "Most E-mailed" list, where it hovered for days, along with an article about the latest conflict in the Middle East. Hundreds of readers wrote in - or e-mailed me directly - to express relief, gratitude, and, nearly as often, outright contempt: "I have been waiting for a story like yours.
Apparently, I had tapped into something larger than a few dime-store tiaras. Princesses are just a phase, after all. It's not as though girls are still swanning about in their Sleeping Beauty gowns when they leave for college at least most are not. But they did mark my daughter's first foray into the mainstream culture, the first time the influences on her extended beyond the family. And what was the first thing that culture told her about being a girl? Not that she was competent, strong, creative, or smart but that every little girl wants - or should want - to be the Fairest of Them All.
It was confusing: images of girls' successes abounded - they were flooding the playing field, excelling in school, outnumbering boys in college. At the same time, the push to make their appearance the epicenter of their identities did not seem to have abated one whit.
If anything, it had intensified, extending younger and, as the unnaturally smooth brows of midlife women attest, stretching far later. I had read stacks of books devoted to girls' adolescence, but but where was I to turn to understand the new culture of little girls, from toddler to "tween," to help decipher the potential impact - if any - of the images and ideas they were absorbing about who they should be, what they should buy, what made them girls?
Did playing Cinderella shield them from early sexualization or prime them for it? Was walking around town dressed as Jasmine harmless fun, or did it instill an unhealthy fixation on appearance? Heidi Begovatz United States Follow. Message to Readers Any and all!
Years of experience and research went into this unique book by Peggy Orenstein. Orenstien discusses making the correct decisions for her own daughter, Daisy, as she enters the girlie-girl world, because as she finds out, it is impossible to steer clear of it. Beside her best intentions, the culture soon divulges her daughter. Orenstein goes back and forth on the same issue throughout the whole book which is exactly what makes the book a truly original read.
So did her big brother Daniel. But I didn't worry that playing with Barbie would give her unreal expectations about herself. Honestly, I don't remember ever having the same kind of worries Ms.
Is Pink Necessary?
Orenstein has about her daughter. I just did what felt right and offered my daughter many options to choose from. She learned early on that I usually wouldn't succumb to her requests for a toy, but I could always be talked into buying her a book or kid's magazine. While I didn't always love her choices, unless they were too mature for her, I let her pick what she wanted. She has grown into a mature young woman with a strong sense of herself and isn't obsessed with her looks or boys.
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Okay, this has turned more into a story about my daughter than a book review. I guess I could have summed it up with one word - meh. Update on review: My daughter made it through high school unscathed and is now a college sophomore. She still does not buy into some people's expectations of how she should behave because of her gender. And I still believe blaming the princess culture for your daughter being a girly-girl who limits her own choices is too simplistic.
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AWahle Jun 1, Growing up as a grrl, I have been dismayed to watch subsequent generations of young women embrace stilettos and gone-wild-self-objectification. It's difficult to understand. Orenstein, being of my generation, explores the girlie-girl territory with brave skepticism. The title, I think is unfortunate, as it sounds like light-weight cynicism, but the book is much smarter than that. It ranges across the terrain of girls' role models, touching on princesses, Miley, Barbie, Wonder Woman and more, citing sales figures and statistics that sometimes alarm.
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This book should be basic reading for anyone trying to understand womanhood and feminism as it looks today. DFratini Apr 23, Recommended to me by the sister of a friend or rather, recommended for my brother and I read it while he put it off because of the Sarkeesian uproar. The author, who has previously written on girl culture at the adolescent level, finds herself face-to-face with girlie-girl culture after the birth of her daughter. Makes it very apparent that navigating the fluff'nstuff is hard for today's mom- give in to what your child wants, or avoid princesses at the risk of marking 'feminine' as 'bad'?
Cinderella Ate My Daughter (& Where I Found My Girls) | HuffPost Life
Members Reviews Popularity Average rating Mentions 41 20, 3. Non-Fiction Worth Reading No current Talk conversations about this book. An amazing book, and much more intelligent than the vapid cover art and subtitle suggest. I'm going to be really picky here, but how do I trust someone who is supposed to have "read the research" and gets major points wrong?
AWahle Jun 1, Growing up as a grrl, I have been dismayed to watch subsequent generations of young women embrace stilettos and gone-wild-self-objectification. DFratini Apr 23, Recommended to me by the sister of a friend or rather, recommended for my brother and I read it while he put it off because of the Sarkeesian uproar.
Daumari Dec 30, It's the personal anecdotes, though, which are delivered with wry, self-deprecating, highly quotable humor, that offer the greatest invitation to parents to consider their daughters' worlds and how they can help to shape a healthier, soul-nurturing environment.
Status Peggy Orenstein — primary author all editions calculated King, David Cover artist secondary author some editions confirmed Ruoto, William Designer secondary author some editions confirmed Van Bree, Christine Cover designer secondary author some editions confirmed.
You must log in to edit Common Knowledge data. Cinderella ate my daughter. New York Times bestseller Nonfiction, For Daisy. Here is my dirty little secret: as a journalist, I have spent nearly two decades writing about girls, thinking about girls, talking about how girls should be raised. If we start with that, with wanting girls to see themselves from the inside out rather than the outside in, we will go a long way toward helping them find their true happily-ever-afters.