COMMENTA RY
Charity Vogel: Princesses no fable with tales of sales
It’s hot pink. It’s shimmery. It’s sequined.
While the girls department in the Toys “R” Us store in Blasdell might not be ground zero in the princess phenomenon that has swept across Western New York and the rest of the country, it comes pretty darn close.
To the left, a $5 boxed set of tiara and glittery teardrop earrings.
To the right, a $21 “princess dress” that promises to make the little girl who dons it “Truly Beautiful!”
And dead ahead, the “Fairytale Wedding” Cinderella doll, which comes with a flouncy dress, veil, and plastic rodent ring-bearer. For $26.
This is holiday shopping these days, if you happen to have a little girl in your life.
You may know it firsthand. You’re reading this, after all, on the Monday after the biggest shopping weekend of the year. If you spent part of the last few days in a retail setting, at Target or Wal- Mart or in a toy store, then you’ve seen for yourself.
It’s a little overwhelming — especially for those who view the princess juggernaut with a wary eye.
Like Karen Swatsworth, a West Seneca grandmother who stood in the aisle of the Blasdell toy store last week, surrounded by a sea of pink packages, looking perplexed.
“I like the old-fashioned doll buggies and little dollies,” she confessed. “But princess has taken over. It’s everywhere.”
She’s not kidding. Somehow, while we weren’t paying attention, princess characters — Cinderella, Belle, Princess Barbie and their ilk — managed to morph from a mildly amusing niche commodity into a full-bore marketing extravaganza aimed at American girls.
The products are nearly endless. The Disney Princess line alone — a $4 billion industry set to outpace Mickey Mouse in global earnings — includes clothing, toys, books and videos. At Toys “R” Us, shoppers can outfit their girls’ rooms in princess bedding, furniture, and a pink princess vanity, all the better to hold the items in their 31-piece makeup kits ($14).
What’s going on here? And, more to the point, who ever decided that this is the imaginary landscape we want our daughters and granddaughters spending time in?
Think about the messages a princess conveys. Beauty equals a fancy dress and jewelry. Happiness lies in a castle. If you make yourself pretty, some bland guy in epaulets may choose you. Forget that college degree: Being picked by the prince is what matters. One doll on the shelves this season comes with a light-up engagement ring sized to fit a little girl’s hand. “Today your dreams come true!” the box boasts.
All of this makes life challenging for those of us raising girls not the least bit interested in tiaras.
My daughter, 3, loves books, puzzles, and digging up the backyard for the dinosaurs she is convinced she can bring back to life, given enough time and the proper chemistry set. Although she once informed me, in wounded tones, that she does “not think about dinos OBSESSIVELY,” last weekend she begged to go to a lecture at the Science Museum about the mastodon dig in Byron. Then she listened for an hour, rapt.
Her holiday wish list this year includes a dinosaur excavation kit. Where do I find that, in an aisle packed with mini lip glosses?
“All this princess stuff,” Swatsworth said, “is giving these girls a false sense of the real world.”
She has that right. But swimming upstream is never easy. As Swatsworth wheeled her cart away, down the aisle, she was weighing a decision far tougher than it seems: between her granddaughters’ wishes and her own good sense.
