Posts Tagged ‘beauty myth’

This just in from a Pigtail Pals Parent after a weekend trip to Legoland:

“After being there I realized the problem is far bigger than their friends line. The shows we saw have not one respectable female character (they manage to portray even cleopat…ra like a kardashian sister). Their kids meals and collectible cups come in pink or blue. The blue ones have several lego characters (ninjas, pirates, etc) on one side and a huge pirate ship scene on the other. The pink ones have 3 “sassy” looking girls (not lego figures) on both sides. They’re not doing anything, or supposed to be anything. They’re just standing there with big doey eyes being,……I don’t know……..”cool” girls, I guess? And then there’s still this. In fun town (which was pretty fun before I saw this), there are two life size characters built entirely from legos. there’s a male police officer and a female firefighter. Cool, right? Except the man is talking into his walkie talkie, while the woman is………wait for it…….not putting out a fire, but……….putting on lipstick!!! WTH???” -Sarah L.

Next, check out the second installment of this fantastic video series by our colleague Feminist Frequency.

(Skip to 8:30 if you are short on time, but the whole thing is well worth it!)

Me, holding my daughter and my baby nieces. What messages are these girls growing up with?

Media is a diet, and these days, we consume a lot of media. Screen time, advertisements, print, billboards, products….it is everywhere. Media is a part of our children’s lives like no other generation before them. What is it telling them?

When I wrote these two questions on Facebook yesterday, I was just wasting time while my attention span was getting increasingly short as I finished up a chapter for my editor. I wasn’t expecting to turn either into a blog post, until I finished a 90 minute interview with a newspaper reporter. A lot of what I was telling her about gender stereotypes, sexualization, and girls in the media was new to her and I could tell that a couple of facts blew her mind. Later in the afternoon I came back to the page and the difference in answers to these two questions was staggering. It was the perfect side-by-side comparison to what I had just been speaking to the reporter about.

Question 1: “When I was eight years old, I wanted to be _____________________ when I grew up.”

The 179 answers given by our community were fun to read. It seems the general age range of people who answered was 18-55(ish).

Answers: Lots of teachers, nurses, veternarians, astronauts, marine biologists, performers (dance, stage, singing), forensic scientists, paleontologists, and archaeologists. Photographers, National Geographic explorers/writers, artists, lawyers, and doctors rounded out the top answers. “A mom” was another common answer.

There were a few fighter pilots, politicians, librarians, journalists, nuns, police officers, animal trainers, fashion designers, a judge and a computer programmer.

There were some original answers, like: “Once I gave up on becoming Chinese” and a pool digger. A James Bond villain and a mafia hit man.  Jedi, Indiana Jones, and Solid Gold dancer – holla to the 80′s kids!

Several of the women said they desperately wanted to be a boy. A couple of people wanted to morph into a dog, a tiger, a horse. I get that, as when I was eight years old I wanted to be a unicorn.

What I loved was the huge diversity in answers. Some people became their childhood dream, others found new dreams along the way. I wonder how different the answers would be if we polled a large group of 8 year olds today. Specifically, what answers would the girls give? What are girls encouraged to explore and become these days? 

Question 2: ”What the market bears is a litmus test of our society, and right now the message for girls is that _______________?” 

• “…being an airhead-concerned about weight, beauty, clothes, and themselves; is more important than enforcing they BE some one-scientist, Dr, RN, Firefighter, Manicurist, coach, whatever their little hearts desire!” –Alicia
• “…they can only aspire to look pretty and dress in sexualized clothing. That they aren’t capable of having careers that have anything to do with science or math and they should focus instead on sexy, frilly, pink things to make themselves look good for others (particularly boys/men).” –Sandy
• “being a girl is essentially different from just being a child; it is an ethereal thing which must be constantly sustained with copious amounts of pink and sparkles lest, like Tinker Bell, it perishes because we did not believe hard enough, and we become no longer a girl, but something lost and invisible.” –Kylie
• “…That style is more than substance. And that achieving that style is an endless, uphill battle that will never be won.” –Monica
• “…the shorter the skirt, the heavier the makeup, the more flagrant the flaunting of low self worth through various means, the more ‘normal’ you are.” –Susan
• “…girl power means you can do or be anything, as long as you do it society’s way.” –Alice
• “…be cute, be sexy, be pretty but don’t be yourself.” -Jennifer
• “…sex sells.” –Chris
• “…Outward appearance and their ability to flaunt it is what will get them ahead in life.” –Jodi
• “…your options are limited. your dreams are not your own.” – Jill
• “…Don’t expect to get ahead in life without being pretty, even if you are smart and talented.” –Megan
• “….you should be seen, but not heard.” – Jennifer
• “…Beauty is worth” – Alison
• “…there is some recognition that they can achieve much, but that it is farcical or a waste or contemptible if they don’t look cute doing it, or that they achieve only because they fail at being attractive.” –Tara
• “…pink glitter makes you a woman.” –Sarah
• “…They are objects.” –Jayne
• “…We have no worth outside of Hollywood’s version of beauty and nothing to contribute if we cannot measure up to the impossible standard.” –Cheri
• “…the only option is boy OR girl; they cannot simply be a child.” -Elizabeth

Doesn’t that just take your breath away?? What messages to girls from media are missing? What COULD media be telling our girls? That their dreams, ideas, talents, visions, goals, and voice are what make them such valuable members of our families and our society.

Read over the answers again. They are all the same. From Disney’s new Princess Sophia to Barbie to Monster High to reality tv and music videos watched by tweens and teens, or almost any other kind of children’s entertainment, the message to girls is their beauty is their worth, and if they don’t have a certain version of beauty, they have no worth.

Now go back up and read the answers to the first question again. Are girls today getting the message they can be all those things? Or are we doing an incredible job of selling short 50% of children?

Media is a powerful force that not even the best parenting can avoid. We can help deter it, but we sure have our work cut out for us. What kind of things are you doing in your home to give your girls more meaningful, healthy messages?

Newest Miss Representation Trailer (2011 Sundance Film Festival Official Selection) from Miss Representation on Vimeo.

A Guest Post by: Lori Day

Sarah and Poppy Burge, infamous beauty-obsessed mother/daugther duo.

Was this a fluky experience? I think so. The lunch area being comprised of all moms and daughters was unusual. The fact that all eight girls were wearing all pink was unusual—I mean, girls wear a lot of pink these days and it definitely is “the uniform,” but there are usually some girls wearing purple at the very least, or even some other colors. (Although, if you’ve never noticed this degree of little-girl pink- ubiquity, start paying attention in public places like malls, airports and food co-ops!)

The fact that two of the eight girls were wearing Disney costumes out to Costco and it was not Halloween or a dress-up birthday party seemed a tad above the usual ratio.

Taken all together, the amount of pink in the form of tulle, satin, glitter, make-up, kitten heels, and little girl bling was highly concentrated in space and time. But you know what? That’s what made me realize that culturally, we now have somewhat of an alliance between princess culture and mommy culture. Executive summary: For a lot of our daughters, the real world of girls and the Disney World marketed to girls have become the same thing.

Yesterday’s post about the invisible girl with the book came about from a question Melissa Wardy asked during a discussion on the Pigtail Pals’ Facebook page about why parents stopped questioning all of the tremendous changes in what is marketed to girls over the last ten years and how it is marketed:  

I believe that many parents have stopped questioning because they, too, are desensitized by our 24/7 media-saturated culture in which the value of females lies less in what they do than in how they look while doing it. Perhaps in these hard economic times, the fantasy that your child is the fairest in the land—or could be with the right focus on her appearance—seems normal, and even beneficial, in the eyes of those parents who do not spend much time intellectually contemplating the commodification of female beauty.

Perhaps parents also stopped questioning because there can be tremendous enjoyment and camaraderie in shared beauty play for females, young and old. Moms usually have the best of intentions. They are supporting each other, acknowledging each other’s children, expressing femininity, and having a great time together being girly. On the face of it, there is nothing wrong with this, and it has always been this way to some degree…just not to this degree.

My concern is with the amount of focus our society now places on female appearance, the enormous multi-billion dollar industry that has grown up around it, and the necessary insecurities these corporations must instill in females, from a very young age, in order to turn them into lifetime consumers. Personally, I advocate for a deeper consideration of these issues by all parents, but I also recognize that a whole lot of parents really like things the way they are, and believe that good parenting will take care of it all, despite the research that has emerged on the tremendous number of hours of powerful marketing and media messages kids consume every single day.

I think it’s like rolling dice. Remember when it was legal to advertise smoking? Strong parents sometimes managed to raise children who did not smoke. But the millions of dollars spent on the seductive advertising campaigns for cigarettes was a Siren call to many kids who did all, eventually, leave the close supervision of their parents and wander out into the big world where they consumed this advertising, and joined a peer group of kids who thought smoking was cool. What was needed was strong parenting and laws that forced the tobacco companies to recognize the harm to children (and adults) inherent in their marketing and profiteering.

So I think it all depends on how one views the world. If you are the kind of parent of who is inclined to look below the shiny surface of pop culture to understand the unhealthy role being played by money and corporations in the lives of girls and women, and are prepared to raise your daughter in ways that might occasionally make you look either out of touch or antagonistic to mainstream girl culture, then you will naturally question, question, question. If not, not.

While I hope more and more parents will go back to questioning, I equally hope that the vigilance and activism of advocacy groups like Pigtail Pals – Redefine Girly  and so many others (see the blog roll on my website for other recommended individuals and groups to follow who are working on making the world a better place for all children) will eventually change the ground rules for the marketers as did happen decades ago regarding the cigarette companies. Social change takes a long time and a lot of hard work by a lot of individuals, but it can happen, and I am proud to be a small part of this massive grassroots effort. What is at stake is nothing less than our girls’ future, and that is not something to gamble.

Poppy Burge, 7yo, received several vouchers for cosmetic surgeries for her 7th birthday.

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Lori Day

Image from clker.com, Rolera LLC

A Guest Post by Lori Day:

I never want to be accused of considering Costco a microcosm of the real world because I’d like to have less despair than that, but maybe there is something to be gained by cautiously extrapolating from that surreal environment to something essentially true about the culture we live in.

One day, in order to take a break from the crowds of people forming around the free food samples and the incredibly long lines snaking through the electronics aisle, I decided to indulge in a slice of cheese pizza and a diet Coke at the snack area. I sat at a table at the back, and soon noticed that there were three tables occupied by mothers with two or three daughters each. There were no dads and no sons on this particular day.

 When you eat lunch alone, it’s amazing what you see and hear and notice about your fellow human beings who do not know you are quietly people-watching them.  The first thing I observed was the way the girls were looking at each other. The mothers had not yet acknowledged each other, but the daughters were making friendly cross-table eye contact. Soon, the mothers noticed that the girls were around the same age and were interested in each other, and everyone exchanged pleasantries and it was really nice, and very different than the usual vibe of competitive drag racing with shopping carts that we had all just survived. I find even basic human decency moving when I encounter it at Costco.

I got up to get some extra napkins, and when I returned all of the mothers and daughters were engaged with each other. You know what? That was really cool. I was totally smiling. Then I suddenly noticed something that for no explicable reason (other than complete desensitization) I had previously failed to notice…that all eight girls of these three mothers were dressed head-to-toe in pink. I don’t mean that some of them had on jeans and a pink sweatshirt. Or a pink top and off-white skirt. I mean what I said—literally every girl wore no item of clothing that was not light pink, medium pink, dark pink, fuchsia or magenta, in some combination, with zero items of clothing in any other shade or hue. (Not on a hit-and-run anti-pink rant here, just articulating the phenomenal amount of that color that was present.)

Then, I realized what the mothers and daughters were all talking about…who was pretty, who looked “just like a princess,” who had the most beautiful hair, whose fingernail polish was the most gorgeous shade of pink, whose pink hair accessories were the loveliest, whose sparkly pink shoes were fanciest and like you’d wear to a ball, etc.

Honestly, this went on for longer than one could possibly imagine.  I had long since finished my meal and remained sitting there, sipping my soda, transfixed. Mothers were almost competing to out-compliment the beauty of each other’s girls. This is sweet and caring, isn’t it? Yes, for sure, but it is something else as well, and it became something else very quickly.

The youngest of all the girls, perhaps three or four, stood up. She was wearing a pink tulle skirt, like a tutu, but longer and able to flow and twirl. She smiled coyly at one of the other mothers, twirled around a few times holding the hem of her skirt, and then posed. I thought she was going to courtesy, but instead she put her hand n her hip and pushed her pelvis forward…waiting. Her own mother beamed as one of the other mothers exclaimed, “My, aren’t you the belle of the ball?”

Soon, all of the girls—that is, except one—got up and casually wandered between the tables, visiting each other, showing off their pink dresses and the Disney costumes a couple of them had worn that day, since Disney costumes are now just regular attire. They were sashaying, flipping their hair, pretending they were models, striking poses, giggling, and drinking in all of the mirth and effusive praise of the mothers, who were utterly delighted by the whole show. Costco’s warehouse lunch area had been transformed into a cement-floored catwalk for an impromptu Toddlers & Tiaras audition. The girls were having a wonderful time.

Except one. This girl was around seven or eight, and of a quieter, more introverted disposition. She had a book and was reading. I could not see the title, but it was fairly thick, and the girl seemed like she was very absorbed in it and probably a pretty good reader. She glanced up repeatedly from her book to watch the other girls—some older, some younger, one her sister—strutting, preening, and lapping up every “How beautiful!” Slowly, she pushed her book to the edge of the table where she was sitting and looked around. No one noticed. She whispered something to her mother, and her mother whispered something back.

Eventually, the girl slid the book back across her table, away from where the other girls were roaming the aisles between the tables. Now here’s where I wished I had a video camera. I will not have the words to describe this girl’s face. Crestfallen? Glum? Hurt? None of these work. Maybe…invisible. She looked like she felt invisible. She looked down at her clothes and up at the clothes of the other girls and back down at her own again. They were pink but not frilly. I realized they were what I would call play clothes, not dress-up clothes. She kept looking at the other girls getting all the attention with their swirling and twirling, knowing her own clothes would not do that.

She was ignored by all of the other girls and other mothers except her own. Apparently, her lack of proper attention to her own femininity was a tragedy for everyone else — innocent bystanders were being robbed in broad daylight of their God-given right to observe her in pink tulle, primping and sashaying in some big-box fashion show of this decade’s new essential girlwear.

I wanted to hug that girl, who is so much like my own daughter, and like I was as a child, and say, “Wow, that’s quite a book you’ve got there! What are you reading?”

Just at that moment the girl’s father came over, along with a boy who was clearly her brother. The boy had a Harry Potter book under his arm—that much was obvious. The father said to his wife, “I got a good spot out front. Are you ready to go?” The mother nodded and started to clean up the paper plates and soda cups on the table. The girl with the book got up and walked towards her dad. One of the other mothers said to her brother, “Wow, you’re a smart boy reading Harry Potter!”

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A big thank you to Lori Day for sharing her insightful experience with the Redefine Girly blog.

Tune in tomorrow for Part 2!

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Lori Day

Lori Day is an educational psychologist and consultant with Lori Day Consulting in Concord, MA, having worked previously in the field of education for over 25 years in public schools, private schools, and at the college level. She writes and blogs about parenting, education, children, gender, media, and pop culture. You can connect with Lori on Facebook, Twitter, or Google+.

Guest Post by Pigtail Pals Parent Community member Amanda T. She shares her preschool-aged daugther’s experience getting a make-over at a spa. In a closet.

My fun, adventurous, huge-hearted four-year-old, ‘M’, has her very first best friend. She will tell anyone with ears that ‘A’ is her “first friend that’s a girl and who does not live with us”.

We love A. She is just as fun, adventurous, and loving as our M. We love A’s parents, too, even though we only know them from preschool drop-off, pick-up, and the few events we’ve had so far (fellow Navy family, in a home with even more daughters than ours – instant kinship). I tell you this so you’ll understand how M and I came to end up in Pretty Pretty Princess Hell. I’m still not sure how to put what happened into words without getting ‘snippy’, so I’ll just tell you how our three hours went that Saturday afternoon – that way you never have to wonder what you’re (not) missing.

We arrived at the party location, and discover it’s not even a ‘spa/salon’, but a clothing store whose small stock room has been turned into a ‘party room’ for either Divas or Pretty Princesses, depending on the ages of the guests, I suppose. The guests for our party range from age 2 to 5. Surely this will be more cake and dress-up than holding still in a chair, right? M is hastily tied into a fluffy pink robe and her “please make it sooo tight and put the ribbons riiiight HERE” hairdo is smushed into a matching headband by a young lady proclaiming, “NOW you’re ready to get pretty!” (In my head: “Well, Miss Pretty, my kid’s hair WAS out of her face, and we got ‘pretty’ before we left the house.”)

M shoots me her first “What? Why?!” look of the afternoon. The kids are given chocolate fizzy water to soak their toes in, Kidz Bop is blaring from a boombox, Miss Pretty busies herself with new guests, I make small-talk with the other moms, and the pink-on-pink décor in this way-too-small room stops being nauseating for a little bit. An hour passes, and the girls have not been “allowed” to get up. There’s nowhere to walk if they DO get up. They are restless. The Other Cool Mom and I say so, out loud. Miss Pretty passes out magazines and practically coos, “Look at all the pretty ladies and their pretty hair and makeup! Aren’t they so pretty? Can you find some pretty girls?”

The Other Cool Mom and I look over and around the rolling carts of makeup and polishes: They’ve given 2, 4, and 5 year olds Glamour and Seventeen magazines. The Rage officially fills me. I am pleased to see M staring at an orange juice ad, and pointing out that the lady in the ad likes to run fast. Miss Pretty pops up and TURNS MY DAUGHTER’S PAGE, saying, “No, not HER. Find a pretty lady.”

M gives me a look that is only a teensy bit shy of the “What the HELL?!”.  The Rage is screaming inside my head. I, loudly, tell M that running so fast probably DOES make that lady feel pretty, and M and I smile at each other. Well, M smiles. I flat out smirk at Miss Pretty. The Other Cool Mom winks at me. Miss Pretty turns two other guests’ pages for them. M gets her nails painted blue and her toes are purple glitter.

Miss Pretty moves to do someone else’s nails, and stops mid-circle of party guests to sing and dance along with the radio, “Don’tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don’tcha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?”. Other Cool Mom, A’s dad, and I are the only grown-ups in the crowded party room at the time, and say – loudly – that maybe the song should be changed. Miss Pretty dances and sings. A’s dad asks – loudly – where the radio is. Miss Pretty shimmies to another 4 year old. The Rage takes over, and I cross the circle of chairs and tap her, “Let’s change the music, please. The only time we want our 4 and 5 year olds ‘hot’ is if they’re on the playground during Summer. Mm ‘kay?”

Miss Pretty puts on Miley Cyrus. A’s dad and Other Cool Mom smile, and we laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You’d think that was the worst of it, right? Of course not. This is only the second circle of Hell.

 We’ve got a way to go. M settled, waiting for her polish to dry, I step out of the cramped storeroom spa to admire the clothing and hair bands in the boutique storefront, guessing that cake and dress up would be next. After purchasing a gift for my nephew, I step back in to find the girls STILL SITTING. We got here at 2pm. It’s nearly 3:30! M looks worried, like she wants to come to me. She shoots me another “What? Why?!” look as oatmeal is offered to her. They are smearing oatmeal on the babies. For cryin’ out loud! Let them have cake! M refuses the ‘facial’, slumps into her chair, and looks like she may cry. She is uncomfortable, not ‘into’ this, and now asking A if there is cake to be had. I’m this close to making excuses and bolting, but she perks up when she sees the makeup another school chum has been plied with. It’s blue. It sparkles. It will wash off easily when we leave. Hooray for something that resembles ‘kid fun’ !

While the girls’ eyelids are being painted blue and purple, Other Mom and I find each other again. More moms and grandparents have showed up – and not only approve of, but are now riding the Pretty Pretty train. I spy a plaque on the wall and baffled, point to it and say, “I don’t get it. They painted it all cute like it’s…”

“Oh! Isn’t it darling?” says Other Cool Mom. WHAT? Did Other Cool Mom just say that? This sign is hot pink and black, with matching feathers coming off a mirror attached to what we call “a stripper shoe” with the words ‘High Maintenance’ above it all. And Other Cool Mom loves it, thinks it’s ‘darling’, even. I look at her like she’s turned green and sprouted antennae and finish my sentence, “I just don’t get it. They’ve got this decorated and nailed to the wall as if the label is a badge of honor. I’m not having it.” And so Other Cool Mom and I didn’t talk the rest of the day.

Back to the babies. They’re made up. They’re allowed to move around! There’s glitter spray – heavy duty stuff, not the cheap Halloween aisle kind. Miss Pretty grabs M’s arm, pulls her away from me, places one hand over her eyes and nose in a grasp hard enough to keep her from moving, and proceeds to practically bedazzle my baby’s head and half her party dress. M frowns. M just washed her hair this morning. M is not pleased. She looks right at Miss Pretty and tells her –before I can swoop in and be That Mom – “I didn’t say I needed glitters.” Miss Pretty places her hands on M’s shoulders and coos, “Aww! Don’t you want to be pretty? A pretty pretty princess? Everyone is doing it, see?”.

Oh, The Rage. Everything that comes out of this female’s mouth is just wrong. M looks at me. I look at her. She says to Miss Pretty, without a word from me, “Well, acting pretty is better.” But Miss Pretty doesn’t get it (imagine that!). The girls are dressing up now. M has spotted microphones – she has a small collection of microphones at home, ranging from plastic ones to a full-blown cordless karaoke mic. Two ‘pretty pretty princesses’ physically move M to cut in line. M wants to cry. I remind her to use manners and to say ‘excuse me, but I was here’, but she’s too timid, too uncomfortable, and getting mean-girl-looks from these 4 year olds. Four year olds!

She’s over it. She wants to go home. But we love A. A is her best gal. A is loving that M is there. M clings to A, and waits for her turn. “I don’t want this gloves. I just want only this microphone”, she tells Miss Pretty’s companion. “Oh no! Pretty Princesses wear gloves!” exclaims the companion. 

“Oh, I just wanted to be the rock star. I’m a rock star. I had blue hair for Halloween,” M informs the woman.

“No. You can’t be a rock star. A rock star is not as pretty and good as a pretty princess.”

Can you FEEL The Rage? My already uncomfortable daughter is being forced into gloves (She hates gloves, mittens, long sleeves). She concedes and asks for a purple princess cape. The pretty pretty princesses are herded out onto the rainy sidewalk for pictures. M doesn’t smile until she realizes she can twirl in her cape and use the ‘wand’ as a microphone. She sings about being a rock star even though she’s a princess. Mommy is pleased. I pull her aside as a new mom walks up and flips out when she spots her daughter-turned-bedazzled-princess – HERE is a true comrade in arms (if she had a FB, she’d friend Pigtail Pals. She rocks.)

She overhears as I tell M how proud I am of her for telling Miss Pretty that ‘acting pretty is better than being pretty’, and we spend the rest of the party outside agreeing with each other’s ‘not-so-mianstream’ views on raising daughters. M looks back at the room, knows she is needed for cake (finally!), and says to New Cool Mom and I, “This lady with the makeups thinks being pretty is all she can do. She is worrying me.” And she runs off. Proud Mom Moment. She sleeps on the way home. I rant and rave to anyone who answers their phone about what’s happened. Once home, M and I have ‘mom spa’ time: a bubbly kitchen sink hair washing, mommy’s special make-up remover (that blue was eyeliner, not shadow – she ended up at church the next day with blue bottom lashes), some hot cocoa with a huge marshmallow, and some SEC football on the tv. Once her big sister wakes up from a nap, they swap stories of their parties that afternoon.

M is quick to tell R, “It was not fun, but I liked to see my friends, and they had pink lemo-lade. A tall lady told me to only be pretty all the time, but she is wrong because we need to be all the things, not just one thing. Be friendly. Be an adventure girl. Be smart. Be happy. Be a helper. Be sweet sisters.”

R nods, asks me what happened, and we discuss it. She looks concerned. In true 5-year old social butterfly fashion she asks, “So, can I still be very pretty when I be all the other things?” Of course you can, R. Of course. M is quick to point out that it’s better to ACT pretty than BE pretty – her way of saying being nice is more important than getting dolled up. R has adopted the line, too. Proud Mommy!

Tomorrow I send my child to her first day of school. Her first day of kindergarten. Her first day of formal education in a public school with years and years and years of learning to follow.

So I’ll ask you kindly to get out of her way, JC Penney. You too, Orbeez and Skechers. Mattel and your Monster High, we’ve already had words.

My daughter will not be sent to school with the message from her parents that she is inadequate. She will not be taught that she is incapable of learning, and mastering, what is taught to her at school. She will not be treated as though she were delicate. Tea cups are delicate, girls are not. She will not be encouraged, at the tender age of five, to be “flirty” or “sugarlicious”. Over my dead body will I give her the message that her beauty is her worth, or that at the age of five, she should be sexually objectifying herself. I take great issue with that notion, and it burns me to the core.

So this crap? Will NOT be coming into my home. Will NOT be poisoning my daughter’s self-image. Will NOT be teaching my son to sell girls short.  Stop selling shitty messages to my kids.

Exhibit A: JC Penney ‘self-esteem’ tee Too Pretty to do Homework

JC Penny thinks girls are too pretty to do homework.

Despite the direct contradiction to their charity Pennies From Heaven, this shirt teaches girls to expect very little from themselves, that their looks supercede their intellect, and that ‘being pretty’ will get you by. Pretty’s got nothing to do with school. Oh, and that little notion that the academic work should be left to the boys. In 2011, we are teaching the grand daughters of the Women’s Lib movement to forsake their education and have their looks be their main focus.

You can petition JC Penney and their shitty shirt right HERE. Even if they pull this shirt, they’ve got another dozen just like it.

So don’t buy it, right? It is just one shirt. Right?

Wrong. WRONG.

It is the culture of consumer beauty and self-objectified sex surrounding our girls that drips right off a script page from a Kardashian-esque reality tv show. The message that beauty and sexiness measure a woman’s worth, and that one can never be too young to focus on these things.

Exhibit B: Orbeez Soothing Spa with magic rainbow de-stressing beads, for that stressed-out 11yo in your life. Because, OMG, school is just like soooooo freaking hard! You can watch the commercial HERE.

Orbeez wants you to know that school is hard!

Orbeez wants you to know that foot spas help your hurting brain from all that learning!

Who needs hard things, like learning, when you can relax at the spa and work on your pretty. How I went through my entire girlhood in the absense of spa products and services usually reserved for adult women of a certain income and lifestyle, I’ll never know.

Learning hurts! Pretty is fun!

Exhibit C: Mattel Monster High Monster Mash backpack …because prostitute-chic NEVER goes out of style for the under-10 set, and when sending our daughters to school, who doesn’t want them to aim to be a Hollywood Boulevard hooker?

Now your favorite friendly prostitutes can go with you to school! Whee!

I like the sparkle. Don't like sexual innuendo on my little daughter's feet.

Pre-schoolers and Gradschoolers do NOT need to be 'flirty'.

Anyhoo….let’s change the way we think about our girls. Let’s do better. They deserve it.

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Update: Make sure to check out our NEW TEE created in response to the JC Penney tee. It is selling like wildfire! Let’s all build girls up, not sell them short.

Pigtail Pals created a new tee, availabe in eight colors sizes 3T - Ladies.

A couple of months back I asked all of you to submit photos to me of the women and girls in your family for a video called the Legacy of Beauty Project that I wanted to create to show that beauty is found in each of us, it is not something to be found on a magazine advertisement or billboard for a fashion house or a surgically altered Hollywood star.

I received hundreds of photos, and equally beautiful stories to tell me about the women and girls in your lives that you loved and cherished. It was both very moving and a great privilege to have had that shared with me.

Beauty is what we pass down in our families, from generation to generation, from mother to child. Beauty is found in the arch of an eyebrow, the curl of a lock of hair, the wrinkles on the back of a hand. Beauty is the dimple at the end of a smile, a twinkle in the eye, the shape of the legs that carry us through life. Beauty is looking just like our grandmother, sharing the shape of our aunt’s eyes, having wavy hair just like mom, or picking up the exact giggle and snort of the mother who adopted us.

Beauty is what we define for ourselves.

Because we are the beautiful ones.

Here is a sneak peek:

The full video featuring ALL of your photos will be out soon. I wanted to create some original music for us again, and asked a good friend of Pigtail Pals to help us out. But as often happens, life put a few bumps in the road and the project was delayed. I promise the end result will be well worth the wait.

We are the beautiful ones. We will pass a legacy of beauty to our daughters.

 The Legacy of Beauty Project was sparked by a comment on my blog post “Take Up Space”, in which the woman discusses feeling validation after viewing the media literacy project Killing Us Softly by Jean Kilbourne that breaks down and analyzes the impossible beauty standard given to us by the fashion and advertising industries. Validation that what she was seeing was a digital magic show, and that indeed she was beautiful. She had worth. 

What stuck in my mind is, “What if there are thousands of women who never see that documentary? Who don’t know every magazine image they see is retouched? Who don’t know the average fashion model is 5’10″ and 114 pounds? Do they look right past the beauty in front of them, and in the women all around them? Will they continue to wait for an absolution that may never come?” 

The stats on the state of female body image, disordered eating/Eating Disorders, and thoughts on beauty are so low it makes my heart hurt. And now it is trickling down to our preschoolers. Yes, preschoolers. 

As a mother, a friend, a woman….I think this is all unacceptable. Mostly, we are failing our daughters.  

We need to make changes. Fast. 

And we hold the power of change. 

 The Legacy of Beauty Project is simple: WE are the beautiful ones. WE define beauty for ourselves. WE will give this legacy to our daughters. 

So let’s make a video, a collection of our beautiful images, along with some inspired music, to show each other, remind each other, teach other….WE are the beautiful ones. 

We will make our definition of beauty more inclusive, more loving, more tolerant. We will offer more grace to our sisters. We will love ourselves more. 

Here’s how it works: Email a photo of you, your daughter, or other girls/women in your family or group of friends to info@pigtailpals.com.Close ups or full body is fine. Casual snapshots or formal shots like weddings are fine. Makeup or no makeup is fine. Babies, kids, young adult, elderly….all fine. Why? Because we are beautiful throughout our entire life. 

Please limit your submission to four photos. Please have photos submitted by March 15, 2011. And please feel free to pass this along to your friends, as we need this message of beauty to reach as many as possible. 

Now pause, have you allowed yourself to feel beautiful today? 

Here I am, no makeup, in pajamas, and a head full of snot, as raw as I can get. We can do this. We can give the gift of beauty to each other. We can allow each other more grace.  

We’re the beautiful half of the species. For God’s sake, our male counterparts are bald or balding, grow hair in their ears, out their noses, on their shoulders, asses, bellies and backs, they’re smelly, beer bellied and have sweaty, stinky balls hanging off their ape-like bodies. And they feel F*$%@^& GREAT about themselves. That just doesn’t add up.  -Tracee Sioux

Ladies — Come. On.

We give our power away when we allow others to tell us how to feel about our bodies. OUR bodies. Our freaking amazing, sexy, curvy, soft, creative, nice smelling, intelligent, nurturing, life giving bodies.

You have got to be kidding me that so many women feel crappy about themselves because they don’t look like starved models or computer altered humans that have been Photoshopped out the wazoo.

Do you know what this mess is doing to our daughters?? We lead the world in Eating Disorders, disordered eating, and low self-esteem because of body image.

If we have billboards for women that dissect their weight, why is there NOT a billboard for condoms with the slogan “I’ll always love you, even though your penis is meh.” Why are we always focused on women’s bodies, and guys get a free pass to look like whatever they want? Why do we care so much and guys care so little?

WHY do women allow themselves to be put down upon and controlled and manipulated into thinking our gorgeous bodies aren’t the most amazing things on earth?

I don’t care whether or not the chocolate or the man or society will still love me….

I. LOVE. ME.

I love me. I love that my body has traveled all over the world. I’ve used my body in great adventures like bungee jumping and scuba diving and hiking the waterfalls of Hawaii. My body created two perfect human beings from scratch, and then birthed them. The second time around was a no bullshitter. But my body did it.

Listen – I get the longing to be pretty and feel attractive and desired and so on. BUT – who says you aren’t? Who says? You say? Sister, start singing yourself another tune.

Who do you allow to define and determine your beauty?

Your beauty is not your worth.

Shut up about being fat. Being skinny. Losing weight. Gaining weight.

Seriously shut up about tummy tucks, especially in front of the kids.

Get smart that 99.9% of photos you see in the media have been retouched and perfected by some guy and a computer.

Really? You’ve got stretch marks or gray hair or heavy thighs? Are you kidding me? That is your body, your house for life. Embrace it.

Honey, I love you, but get bigger things to think about in life. I do 136 things every day before I have time to think about what I look like. Step away from the mirror, put your hand on your belly, your center, close your eyes, and allow yourself to feel beautiful.

I define my beauty. I know my worth. I stand fully in my body because I love it. And I don’t look twice at magazine photos or models. That fake crap doesn’t come close to being as gorgeous as me.

Photoshop can suck it. Sizeist messages that promote the thin ideal can get lost. Women can start to be kinder to each other and offer each other more grace.

C’mon Ladies. Let’s face it. We’re the beautiful ones. We make the rules.

*Cross posted with permission from Jennifer W. Shewmaker, Ph.D.*

The old and new Strawberry Shortcake, one of many old school children's characters getting sexier, thinner makeovers.

In a study published in 2010, Dr. Jennifer Harriger, a colleague at Pepperdine University, looked at how much girls aged 3-5 had internalized the thin ideal (the idea that beauty in females = thinness) and how they attributed stereotypes to others because of their weight (fat=lazy, stupid, has no friends while thin=nice, sweet, has friends).

Yes, you read that right, 3-5 year olds! You may be thinking, “Oh come on, kids that young don’t think about things like that.” But, according to Dr. Harriger’s research, there is a very strong research base out there that tells us that children as young as 3 years of age are already beginning to buy into the idea that for females, thinness is equal to goodness.

So what did she find? The little girls that were studied showed evidence of having already begun to internalize the thin ideal and to stereotype others based solely on their weight. What was interesting about this study is that they had girls choose from several different game pieces (like those in Candy Land) which were identical except for their weight. The kids chose pieces that represented themselves and a best friend. Up until now, research studies have shown that kids don’t tend to distinguish that much between thin and average weights. However, in this study, the girls more often chose thin game pieces over the average sized ones. Dr. Harriger thinks this may be due to the fact that in recent years, the thin ideal has been presented to very young children more strongly through products and entertainment.

For example, consider this photo below, which was commented upon on Feminist Fatale.com, comparing a Barbie doll from the 1990s to one manufactured today. As you can see, the proportions of the doll, while always ridiculous, have changed even more to emphasize the thin mid-section and curvaceous breast and behind.  There have been many recent make-overs of several well-loved children’s characters, such as that of Strawberry Shortcake, to give them shapes and appearances more in line with the thin ideal. This change in the characterization of positive characters is likely connected to the change in young children’s opinion of thin-vs-average weight.

Barbie may have changed over the years, but her body now looks like a Victoria Secrets model.

One of the saddest and most startling findings in this study had to do with the things that the little girls said about the different game pieces. For example, they said about the fatter piece “I hate her because she has a fat stomach” or “I don’t want to be her, she’s fat and ugly.” What’s worrying is that we also see girls as young as ages 5 and 6 talking about dieting and wanting to be thinner. It’s time to stop and think about the messages our young children are getting about body shape and value. It’s time for all of us to stand together and show our children that being healthy and good isn’t about being “thin,” but about so much more than that. Instead of focusing on thinness, let’s focus on strength, both of body and character.

Harriger, J.A., Calogero, R.M., Witherington, D.C., & Smith J.E. (2010). Body size stereotyping and internalization of the thin-ideal in preschool-age girls. Sex Roles, 63, 609-620. doi: 10.1007/s11199-010-9868-1

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Jennifer W. Shewmaker, Ph.D., is Director of the School Psychology Training and an Associate Professor of Psychology at Abilene Christian University. She often writes on the media, sexualization, and parenting issues.