I love pink. I like pink dresses, pink blankets and pink roses. I love pastel blue, lavendar and pale green. Anything that's soft and feminine, to me, is ideal to lavish upon my darling granddaughters.
I read an article on AOL a few weeks ago about an author who is opposed to pink being peddled to our precious little girls. Seems she is not just against girls prancing about in pretty pettifores; she doesn't like the princess-image being force-fed to girls via fairytales...there are no Prince Charmings or White Knights. Very few girls grow up to be princesses. If I didn't know better, I'd think most girls grow up expecting to live in vine-covered castles, fulfilling fantasy marriages complete with twittering birds and talking mice at their beck and call. The villains sucking the brains from our vulnerable little girls are Disney's line of princesses: Cinderella, Snow White, Beauty, Mulan, Sleeping Beauty, and of course, that wicked Little Mermaid.
According to Parent Dish's Tom Henderson, the author of "Cinderella Ate My Daughter", Peggy Orenstein, offers an ominous outcome for girly-girl imaging. She is concerned the "prince" her daughter marries and vows to love and protect her will run off and marry nurse-Nancy as soon as he's finished dental school. After all, once a Beast, always a beast.
I might agree with her position if not for one thing. Reality. I grew up in the age of Barbie and Ken. My sister-in-law passed her collection of Barbies onto my little girl. Although Barbie donned a fresh gown every time she twirled around, she also had attire complete with briefcase and hard hats. Barbie portrayed a working gal. Yeah...that liberated woman who brought home her own bacon and wouldn't let Ken open her pink car door. She could be a nurse one day and a doctor the next; a model in a gown or a CEO in a three-piece pantsuit and tie. I do not recall one apron or rolling pin in the pink plastic wardrobe. It's an absolute miracle my daughter grew up to be a stay-at-home wife who raised three children and is now homeschooling her two little girls.
But back to the princess plight. I was fortunate; Cinderella didn't eat my daughter. She grew up reading all the fairytales and watching happily-ever-after movies. She wore pink and played with Barbie. But she lived in the real world, unspoiled, and learning what it is to be a Proverbs 31 virtuous woman. She didn't model herself after the folly of the world because we brought her up in the admonition of the Lord and prayed with her, over her, and for her throughout her life. And no, life has not always been a rose-garden. But she's learned how to pull the thorns from her thumbs and move on. Sometimes the brambles seem overwhelming as they wrap around her life. But in these times I'm glad to see she's developed the character of all those Disney princesses who suffer unkindness, calamity, and misfortune. She's stood strong and uncompromising. Though buffeted by life's storms, she still looks to the One Who calms the waves and trusts He will speak as only the Prince of Peace can.
In the meantime we paint pink playrooms, buy pink bows and purchase princess pajamas. We crown the girls with jeweled tiaras. And as we sip sweet tea from our china tea-cups, we delight in telling them they are, indeed, princesses--that someday they'll wear a robe of white and dine at the table of the King of Kings. selahV
ANOTHER POST YOU MAY ENJOY at my "Feminine Matters" blog.
