The articles are so full of language and other non-family-friendly imagery that I wouldn't even let The Apprentice read them.
However, there were a few things that jumped out there that are worth commenting on.
One of the biggest objections to little girls being dressed as if they were standing on street corners is the question of who's watching them and why. It is very, very hard to explain this problem to children, especially if we've raised them to say "Look at me!" Especially if we are constantly taking videos or pictures of them, teaching them to pose, encouraging them to be the center of attention while they're still at their cutest. How then can they understand the danger of someone looking at them with evil intentions? Besides that, there's the basic problem of "me!" Clothing historian Anne Hollander is quoted in the Macleans article: "You can learn a whole lot of very serious narcissim by being brought up to be looked at constantly," she says, citing Marie Antoinette, who was "scheduled to be the queen of France since she was born."
"Nevertheless, Esmeralda was not the most fortunate Princess in the world and it was on account of her one lack that the whole kingdom mourned.Are we raising our daughters merely to be looked at?
"For Esmeralda was plain.
"There weren't two ways about it--the girl had no beauty, and in a royal Princess that is a serious flaw."--Phyllis McGinley, "The Plain Princess"
To be sexy? Susan Linn, co-founder of Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, is quoted in George's article: "Girls themselves don't necessarily understand the clothing as sexual, she says, but 'what they do comprehend is that they get a lot of attention by dressing in a particular way.'"
To be shoppers? A quote from the article: "In fact, the most important identity of all for girls to cultivate is their identity as shoppers." It describes toys such as plastic purses filled with toy wallets and debit cards, and a Barbie bank with ATM machine. Toy purses are nothing new, but the article suggests that these toys aren't just playthings: for this generation of children, they represent the real thing; they are "practice" rather than just "play."
To be invited places? The authors of Packaging Girlhood: Rescuing Our Daughters from Marketers' Schemes are quoted: "Will she be popular? Will she be invited somewhere? With what group does she belong?" I think those questions sum up the article even more than the details of the terrible clothing do. They sound like the stuff of old teenage novels (Will Poindexter ask me to the prom?); but now it's little girls who worry about those things.
To be servants? Wait a minute, where did that come from? (Thanks to HomeschoolBuzz.com for posting the link.)
"Dame Goodwit gave her a tiny plot of ground for her to plant and she grew reasonably adept at coaxing the seeds to climb up into the sunlight. She burned her thumbs trying to make cookies, she scratched her knees blackberrying, she made up stories for Echo which had nothing to do with how important she had been at the castle."--Phyllis McGinley, "The Plain Princess"At what age do you worry about those things? Are homeschoolers immune to the marketing-our-girls disease, even if they don't watch commercials? Do those attitudes creep in at church, in dance classes, in the ways they play with their dolls? And even, if we're not being very careful, in their clothes? As the article points out, the streetcorner syndrome can be hard to get away from when even the Giant Tiger (discount store) fliers advertise "clothes with bling."
On my last shopping trip with Ponytails, I didn't so much mind the Brady Bunch orange and pink flowers and stripes for little girls (at least they're cheerful), but there was one top she looked at that I did not like at all, and not because it had bad words on it or exposed her midriff. It was clearly designed for someone much older: it was black, stretchy, and tucked in all the wrong places. The ironic thing was that they had only one of these tops, and it was (luckily) a size too SMALL for my fourth-grader. In other words, it was meant for maybe a second or third grader.
I don't usually go on this long, and I'm trying to wind up with one main point to this. If there is one, it's that we can't afford to raise Marie Antoinettes or Esmeraldas, much as we might like to have little princesses with everything they could ever want. And we need more Dame Goodwits who are smart enough to break through the spell our culture tries to cast on our daughters.
"'The magic,' she said softly. 'It is complete. I am no longer plain.'
"Then she turned to Dame Goodwit.
"'My father the king will reward you well. You are a powerful enchantress.'
"'That is as may be,' said the Dame placidly. 'Perhaps your eyes glow because for the first time in your life you have done an unselfish thing. I am well pleased with you, Esmeralda."--Phyllis McGinley, "The Plain Princess"