Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture

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Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture

3.64 of 5 stars 3.64 · rating details · 6,697 ratings · 1,402 reviews

The acclaimed author of the groundbreaking bestseller Schoolgirls reveals the dark side of pink and pretty: the rise of the girlie-girl, she warns, is not that innocent.
Pink and pretty or predatory and hardened, sexualized girlhood influences our daughters from infancy onward, telling them that how a girl looks matters more than who she is. Somewhere between the exhilarati...more The acclaimed author of the groundbreaking bestseller Schoolgirls reveals the dark side of pink and pretty: the rise of the girlie-girl, she warns, is not that innocent.
Pink and pretty or predatory and hardened, sexualized girlhood influences our daughters from infancy onward, telling them that how a girl looks matters more than who she is. Somewhere between the exhilarating rise of Girl Power in the 1990s and today, the pursuit of physical perfection has been recast as a source, the source of female empowerment. And commercialization has spread the message faster and farther, reaching girls at ever-younger ages.
But, realistically, how many times can you say no when your daughter begs for a pint-size wedding gown or the latest Hannah Montana CD? And how dangerous is pink and pretty anyway, especially given girls' successes in the classroom and on the playing field? Being a princess is just make-believe, after all; eventually they grow out of it. Or do they? Does playing Cinderella shield girls from early sexualization, or prime them for it? Could today's little princess become tomorrow's sexting teen? And what if she does? Would that make her in charge of her sexuality, or an unwitting captive to it?
Those questions hit home with Peggy Orenstein, so she went sleuthing. She visited Disneyland and the international toy fair, trolled American Girl Place and Pottery Barn Kids, and met beauty pageant parents with preschoolers tricked out like Vegas showgirls. She dissected the science, created an online avatar, and parsed the original fairy tales. The stakes turn out to be higher than she - or we - ever imagined: nothing less than the health, development, and futures of our girls. From premature sexualization to the risk of depression to rising rates of narcissism, the potential negative impact of this new girlie-girl culture is undeniable; yet armed with awareness and recognition, parents can effectively counterbalance its influence in their daughters' lives.
Cinderella Ate My Daughter is a must-read for anyone who cares about girls, and for parents helping their daughters navigate the rocky road to adulthood.(less)

Hardcover, 244 pages

Published January 25th 2011 by Harper

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The Ms. Blog's Best Feminist Non-Fiction Reads: Reader's Choice

24th out of 383 books — 262 voters

Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein

Bitches, Bimbos, and Virgins by Gary Svehla

Reality Bites Back by Jennifer L. Pozner

Women & Gender Studies

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Apr 02, 2013 Will Byrnes rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: economics, non-fiction, psychology-and-the-brain, public-health, brain-candy

UPDATED - 4/2/13 - see link at bottom

Once upon a time it was considered attractive for women to have some actual flesh on them; small boys wore pink dresses while little girls wore blue; childrens television shows were not designed specifically to sell toy lines, and manufacturers did not push pink-colored merchandise for a vast range of products to enhance their bottom lines. Pre-teen girls were not encouraged to dress like streetwalkers and bump and grind like exotic dancers. Surely girls were...more

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Feb 19, 2012 Michelle rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: horror, humor, memoir, non-fiction, women, feminist

It was good but lacking. She skims over a lot of interesting questions and conflicts, but don't really explore a lot of other ones because of her feminist agenda (and I'm a feminist). This book also suffers from her white, liberal, and (relatively) rich guilt and blinders. There are quick fleeting mentions of race (the last chapter she talks about the Princess & the Frog, and I was frequenting face-palming and rubbing my temples, esp when she mention her biracial daughter), fat, and sexualit...more It was good but lacking. She skims over a lot of interesting questions and conflicts, but don't really explore a lot of other ones because of her feminist agenda (and I'm a feminist). This book also suffers from her white, liberal, and (relatively) rich guilt and blinders. There are quick fleeting mentions of race (the last chapter she talks about the Princess & the Frog, and I was frequenting face-palming and rubbing my temples, esp when she mention her biracial daughter), fat, and sexuality. Actually there is a lot of sexuality but of the heterosexual kind.

Since she's a reporter for the New York Times, I googled her other work and her article on Miranda Cosgrove contained entire paragraphs lifted from her chapter "From Wholesome to Whoresome: The Other Disney Princesses", which was about Miley Cyrus, Hilary Duff and the like. This chapter and the superhero chapter suffer because of the lack of detail and nuances, which she either ignored to strengthened her point or she didn't know or care enough to add. For example what about the Disney boys (Justin Timberlake and Shia LaBeuof) in contrast? Or Raven Symone who didn't fit into the neat 'thin, white girl' mold like the other Disney idols? I would have liked further discussion or thought on that.

The wealth angle also left me cold because if you can't afford the American Girls dolls or the reason you say no to your child's plea's for Dora, Jasmine and other frilly things is because you simply can't afford it, then the discussion of these items harmful effects seems pretty moot.

Her chapters on the Internet and teens was just as rushed, they covered the usual stuff (sexting, nude pics, facebook overuse, branding, Twilight, cyberbullying, etc.), but there wasn't much depth here. She talks about statistics and second hand experiences, but it really didn't add any new understanding to the subject.

The best parts are when she talks about raising her daughter and how she deals first hand with these struggles and her own approach to them. I liked the parts about the Princess & the Frog, superheroes, talking with other moms in her neighborhood, and trips to see events and stores she talks about with trepidation and disdain.(less)

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Apr 28, 2011 Skylar Burris marked it as sampled-abandoned

Shelves: sociology

A condensed version of the thoughts I catalogue here appears in my article Are Pink Things and Princesses Oppressing Our Girls?. Since I’m planning to take my daughter to Disney World for the first time some time in the next year, it seemed like a good time to read this. Of course, even at seven, she’s still more interested in Winnie the Pooh than in princesses. But, sure, she loves to dress up in gowns and necklaces and tutus, to put on pretend makeup (allowed only on weekends, in time for was...more

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Dec 02, 2012 Cathy DuPont rated it 4 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Dads and Moms

Recommended to Cathy by: Will Byrnes

Living in the Oldest City in the United States, St. Augustine certainly has its challenges, first being the high number of tourists to visit the area a valid 2 million a year.

In the past they were mostly middle class with St. Augustine being their destination. However, with that said, in the past 20 years or more the complexion of the tourist has changed significantly. And numbers will bear out that the city is no longer the destination point, it’s a ‘side trip’ after Disney World.

Once in the c...more

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Aug 12, 2012 Helynne rated it 4 of 5 stars

Author Peggy Orenstein’s four-year-old daughter Daisy loved to wear engineers’ overalls with the complementing bandana and hat until a boy on the playground yelled to her, “Girls don’t like trains!” After that, Daisy jettisoned the engineer garb and went off and running with the Disney princesses, Barbies, the color pink, and all the other trappings of what Orenstein calls “the new girlie-girlie culture.” “And what was the first thing that culture told [my daughter] about being a girl?” the auth...more Author Peggy Orenstein’s four-year-old daughter Daisy loved to wear engineers’ overalls with the complementing bandana and hat until a boy on the playground yelled to her, “Girls don’t like trains!” After that, Daisy jettisoned the engineer garb and went off and running with the Disney princesses, Barbies, the color pink, and all the other trappings of what Orenstein calls “the new girlie-girlie culture.” “And what was the first thing that culture told [my daughter] about being a girl?” the author asks. “Not that she was competent, strong, creative or smart, but that every little girls wants—or should want—to be the Fairest of Them All” (5). The modern media more and more touts the idea that looking cool means looking “hot,” and this certainly is not good news for our little girls’ professional futures. “The more mainstream media girls consume, the more importance they place on being pretty and sexy . . . to the point of losing interest in math and science” (16-17). This study covers a variety of interesting phenomena surrounding the “girlie-girl” culture, including a look at the mega-priced American Girl doll store in New York City, the marketing memorabilia surrounding Shirley Temple, a detailed description of huge amounts of pink toys in U.S. toy stores, the history of Barbie as contrasted with the newer, “hotter” (and more slutty) Bratz dolls, and the spike in cosmetic sales for preschoolers (including press-on nails for six-year-olds), Botox for teens, etc. Orenstein notes –ironically-that as society gives women more freedom, the more polarized a culture’s ides about the sexes becomes. She discusses the gender-free childhood experiments of few decades ago that engendered the next generation of moms who encouraged the current “post-feminist” girlie-girl daughters. She offers lots of interesting theory about the pros and cons of sex-segregated education (70-72). One of the most outrageous parts of the book is the chapter entitled “Sparkle, Sweetie!” that describes the multi-billion-dollar industry of little girls’ (ages 4-5) beauty pageants that most American abhor, yet watch as a kind of “guilty-pleasure voyeurism” (77). She describes such trends as KGOY: Kids Getting Older Younger, as girls are pushed to be sexy too soon and can’t really understand what they’re doing. Orenstein quotes Stephan Hinshaw’s comments on how girls who rush in this direction ”do not—and may never—learn to connect their performance to erotic feelings or intimacy. They learn how to be desirable, but not to desire, undermining rather than promoting healthy sexuality” (85). Other chapters examine how the old Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson fairy tales as well as the current Twilight films perpetuate the princess mind-set (although she lets Twilight off the hook, calling it “claptrap,” but nevertheless, notes that it is a series that puts at least a little less emphasis on girls looking hot). Orenstein also discusses the real-life Disney princesses—Brittney Spears, Miley Cyrus, Lindsay Lohan, and Hillary Duff—who were all products of the Disney machine, and grew up to be women—and commodities—while making the slide from “squeaky to skanky” (121-23). The author gives numerous other examples of TV “zit-coms” that market teen innocence-cum-sexuality. “The virgin/whore cycle of the pop princesses, like so much of the girlie-girl culture pushes in the opposite direction of healthy, self-controlled sexuality” (130). A particularly interesting part of this study was Orenstein’s historical look at the differences in goals, character, and resolutions of young women in the 19th-century, and girls of today. Whereas 19th-century women strove "to be self-restrained, work more seriously," etc., late 20th century gals wrote their goals as “to lose weight, get a good haircut, makeup," etc., (140) “I wonder why we adult women, with all our economic political and personal freedoms, have let this happen to our daughters” Orenstein says. (140). A good question indeed. She continues, “I know that if I could imbue (my daughter) with a superpower, it would be the ability to withstand the pressures of the culture around her, to be her own woman despite the potential costs, . . .the power to be the hero of her own story . . .to embrace her gifts regardless of her body’s size or shape—even if I have not been fully able to embrace mine” (158). Another interesting chapter involves Facebook and other electronic techniques and their awful power to devastate girls. “The fastest way to take a girl down remains as ever, to attack her looks or sexual behavior. Ugly. Fat. Slut. Whore. These are the teen girls’ equivalent of kryptonite” (164). Orenstein also tells stories of girls “sexting” nude photos of themselves, and cyber-bullying each other (a practice that has lead to teen girls’ suicides). “My fear for my daughter, then, is not that someday, she will act in a sexual way; it is that she will learn to act sexually against her own self-interest” (172). Orenstein’s conclusion includes a warning not to keep our daughters Rapunzel-style, locked away from the world, but to teach them to navigate through the land mines of growing up. “The path to womanhood is strewn with enchantment, but it is also rife with thickets and thorns and a Big Bad Culture that threatens to consume them even as they consume it . . . . There is power—magic—in awareness. If we start with that, with wanting girls to see themselves from the inside out rather than outside in, we will go a long way toward helping them find their true happily-ever-afters.”

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Apr 12, 2011 Rhiannon rated it 2 of 5 stars Recommends it for: Mommys, Daddys, Pre-School Teachers?

Recommended to Rhiannon by: The Feminist Readers Network on Goodreads

Shelves: nonfiction, lady-writer, read-in-2011, clubbies, its-a-gender-thing, someone-stole-this-from-me

Here's the deal: The two stars - those are for me. To someone who has read a fair amount about children/gender and feminism in general, Orenstein does not offer anything new. If I was a new or future-mom, however, an average middle-class mom who hasn't read what could be considered a "feminist" book since college (or possibly never!), or just one who finds most children's toys essentially "harmless," I think this book could be a real eye-opener - I think it could easily deserve three or four sta...more Here's the deal: The two stars - those are for me. To someone who has read a fair amount about children/gender and feminism in general, Orenstein does not offer anything new. If I was a new or future-mom, however, an average middle-class mom who hasn't read what could be considered a "feminist" book since college (or possibly never!), or just one who finds most children's toys essentially "harmless," I think this book could be a real eye-opener - I think it could easily deserve three or four stars...

The strong points of this book, in my opinion, are the author's voice, her ability to be concise, and the pace of the book itself. Orenstein can be a funny lady - her social observations and anecdotal style make this book a surprisingly fun, fast read. Her voice is likeable, believable, and (perhaps, most importantly) familiar. Most of the time, I believe that Orenstein, herself, does seem to embody the idea of a typical middle-class USA mom. Either by journalistic license or in her genuine character, Orenstein wrote Cinderella Ate My Daughter in a decidedly mainstream tone and for a decidedly mainstream audience.

I don't think I'm remiss in saying that even women who consider themselves in favor of womens' rights, equality, tolerance - don't use the label "Feminist" very often. And neither does Orenstein. Mainstream US society has taught us to fear that particular label, to avoid it. So, for the most part, even though she is raising a feminist argument, Orenstein does avoid calling it that most of the time. This choice, I think, allows her book to reach a more mainstream audience. It scares most Americans to be considered out of the "mainstream," (especially if one is a journalist - like Orenstein, who observes 'the mainstream' and reports on it). If Orenstein is trying to seem the "everymom," she really pulls it off.

Orenstein, echoing the sentiment of what I believe is a lot of people in this country, attempts to have the "best" of both worlds by participating in and enjoying the safety of mainstream culture (Look! My children and I lead "normal," healthy lives!), and criticizing it and advocating change at the same time (Look! We consider these activities and attitudes "normal," and we shouldn't - they are harmful!). People attempting this (people like...me!) can come off conflicted/confused because they're attempting to reconcile what is seemingly impossible.

As a result, what Orenstein doesn't quite bring to the table is conviction. In her attempt to reconcile living in the mainstream/criticizing the mainstream, she often builds up a great deal of heated conviction in the beginnings and middles of her chapters on specific topics (princesses, American Girl Dolls, Barbie, fairy tales, Disney, mixed-gender play, consumerism/advertising, child beauty pageants), but then lets her arguments wither away by the end of the chapters into a series of confused questions. While this ambivalence may mirror what some mainstream parents feel toward the culture they live in, it makes for a weak argument. And this is why this book, in my opinion, only deserves two stars.

Furthermore, by "kind-of-but-not-exactly" labeling her argument or herself as "feminist" - she does an even further disservice to her readers by pushing the word (the lifestyle, the criticism) slightly to the side, once again - where "feminist" can be side-stepped, rather than better defined. Taboo, rather than common. Ignored, rather than embraced.

I did appreciate Orenstein bringing an essentially (watered-down) feminist criticism to mainstream moms. Perhaps they can find use for it, perhaps they can begin questioning their child-rearing decisions more often than they currently do (I know she has inspired me to think about my own future-momness). Maybe to a mainstream American mom, Orenstein is asking questions about and criticizing a culture that they had not had the inclination to formally engage with before now...Maybe a dose of "feminist-lite" can prove more helpful than no criticism at all. (less)

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Jun 25, 2012 Chris rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: feminist, grimm, andersen, snow-white, mermaids-selkies, sleeping-beauty-rapunzel, fairy-myth-legend-criticism, npr-pbs-and-bbc, reporting-interviews-trials, movie-tv-related-or-tie-in-non-sf

I don't have children, and I don't teach children. I picked up this book in part due to an interview on NPR and after seeing prostitots in the malls. I should also note I had Barbies when I was kid. They got trampled by thier horses a lot. But at least, during my childhood, Barbie could be a vet. I also don't understand why girls wear pants with the word 'juciy' written across the butt.

Peggy Orenstein's book is a good look at the effects and causes of girlie-girl culture. If you are a Twilight...more

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Feb 18, 2012 Melissa rated it 3 of 5 stars

I read this book in one sitting, and then immediately fell to the floor to give thanks that I have a son rather than a daughter. It was hard enough for me to grow up in an era that did not involve sexting, facebook, Disney princesses, and pop stars who are marketed to little girls & also gyrate on stripper poles during their concerts. On one hand, I think the woman that Orenstein (and, I assume, all my friends who have daughters) wants her daughter to be cannot exist. This uber-woman who wou...more

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Jan 23, 2012 Tracy rated it 5 of 5 stars

I loved this book. Orenstein's combination of research with memoir is very effective. It was easy to connect with her on a personal level (and believe me, I did, seeing as we share many of the same anxieties about raising daughters), but every story that Orenstein starts as an intimate tale of parenting she then backs up with solid facts and studies. Some readers might be disappointed that this book offers little in the way of solutions to the problems posed, but that is not what this is about....more

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Feb 04, 2013 Elizabeth rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: recent-reads

this is an interesting look at the effects of raising a daughter on the ideal of the princess: a woman's role is to be beautiful and looked at, but never to think and be strong. orenstein does not allow her daughter to own barbie dolls or princess dolls of any kind, but i feel this is unrealistic in many ways as well.

i think the material here is good for mothers of little girls, but i also want to research some of the long-term effects (if any) myself. i mean, i think we've all grown up with exp...more

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Jan 02, 2012 Coqueline rated it 3 of 5 stars

The book deals with the issue that is very dear to me, as mother of a 5 year old, who has begun to embrace pink and princesses.

The book was a fast and enjoyable read, but lacking in conclusion, which make it sounds more like a compilation of blog posts than an actual book. I thoroughly enjoyed the parts where she went researching, getting professional insights and putting in historical context to the issue, but find it bewildering when she started to relate them to her own daughter and parenting...more The book deals with the issue that is very dear to me, as mother of a 5 year old, who has begun to embrace pink and princesses.

The book was a fast and enjoyable read, but lacking in conclusion, which make it sounds more like a compilation of blog posts than an actual book. I thoroughly enjoyed the parts where she went researching, getting professional insights and putting in historical context to the issue, but find it bewildering when she started to relate them to her own daughter and parenting, which was often confused and bordering neurotic (the drama when her husband bought the daughter a Barbie!). It would probably make for a better book if Orenstein, along with her concern for the issue, actually have a stance over the matter, strong arguments to support it, and stick to it when it comes to her parenting. (But perhaps, doing so would make the book too preachy and alienating to potential readers who don't share the argument.)

I'm also disappointed that there is no real constructive effort going into her battle against the pink-ification of little girls. Instead of worrying too much about pink toys and frilly dresses, why not use the energy to get the kid out of shops and do something physically active? Instead of weighing what doll to buy her daughter, why not introduce her to nature or art? The strongest message that I got from this book and author (which I'm sure was not the intention), was that if you define your sense of identity (and by extension your children's) by what you buy and consume, yes, you should worry about the aggressive marketing of pinks and princesses to your daughter(s). There's so much more to parenting than buying them the right toys and clothes.

I used to dress my little girl in blacks and bright reds when she was a baby. By the time she was 4, she started to have her own opinion on what she wears, and yes, pink became her favourite colour. It was a worrying trend, but I kept buying her clothes of assorted colours, I don't always buy her the latest hype in toys, but she plays with all sorts; Barbies, princess outfits, kitchen set, pirate outfits, tractors, and trains (she simply loves toys with moving parts). I'm trying to let her enjoy the toys as they essentially are, not as girls' toys or boys' toys. I also encourage her to be physically active; get involved in all kinds of sports, ballet, or just to romp around wildly at the playground (sometimes, she would climb to the top of the jungle gym, while clutching a pink purse in one hand - obviously it can be done). I'm passionate about steering her away from gender stereotyping, but not at the expense of her not realising how fun it is actually to be a girl. And fun is not defined by what we can get at the mall.(less)

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Dec 07, 2011 Lara rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: feminism

This one was just okay for me. While she does make some great points about postmodern girlhood, many of her views are just as reactionary as the ones she criticizes. I actually could not finish this one because I kept getting annoyed with her logic. For instance, she criticizes Barbies, American Girl dolls, and baby dolls as being too limiting in the way they portray gender. Then, she discusses buying her daughter toy guns and Thomas the Train gear. Is she not just pushing her daughter into the...more This one was just okay for me. While she does make some great points about postmodern girlhood, many of her views are just as reactionary as the ones she criticizes. I actually could not finish this one because I kept getting annoyed with her logic. For instance, she criticizes Barbies, American Girl dolls, and baby dolls as being too limiting in the way they portray gender. Then, she discusses buying her daughter toy guns and Thomas the Train gear. Is she not just pushing her daughter into the opposite direction, and, by doing so, only reaffirming the idea that masculinity is more desirable? I thought so. This kind of logic permeates the entire book. She also, for another example, claims that when she was a girl she played with guns and did not turn out, as she puts it, a sociopath. The thought that ran through my mind was I played with Barbies and stuffed animals and worshiped The Little Mermaid, but I did not turn out damaged. I honestly kept feeling bad for her daughter as Orenstein won't let her play with toys she's drawn to. I struggle to see what is wrong with a 3 year old playing with a doll. Let's face it, boys play with dolls, too, only they're called "action figures." According to this book, girls should play with action figures aka boy dolls instead of Barbies aka girls dolls. Gee, what a revolution.

One good thing is she does recognize some of her own confusion, as when she recounts a rather heartbreaking incident in Target with her daughter. She writes very well, and her tone is often very funny. Her book does raise some good questions about this "girly-girl" culture, but her answers were not very satisfying. I really don't see how we can fix any social problems by declaring one gender's toys oppressive (girls' toys) and viewing the other's (boys' toys) as superior and fulfilling.

Honestly, the issue I have with toys today is there is nothing really encouraging intellectual curiosity. For instance, as a child I had enough Barbies to have my own Miss America pageant, half of my bed was stuffed animals, and my bedroom was pink. However, I had a toy microscope my brother, sister, and I used to examine insects we caught. We had bug cages and kept our "pet" crickets, frogs, and lizards there. I also had a child's dictionary that came with a spelling "calculator" to assist the child with learning new words. I mention this because now I really feel there is a disregard for intellectualism that is profound. Most toys today are based on some popular movie and foster no imagination--and they break within a month, if that. I really feel for little children growing up now. They have no Saturday morning cartoons, no decent toys, and not much to spark their imaginations--and this applies to boys and girls. Only having Spiderman, Batman, and Ironman as your role models is just as limiting as the Disney princesses.

I think these issues bother Peggy Orenstein, but she does not really explore the problems oppressing all children. I think I would have enjoyed this book more had she explored gender more thoroughly.(less)

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Mar 02, 2012 E rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: politics

When I was growing up, I had a hard time remembering that McDonald's and Disney were not the same company. I still have a hard time remembering that. Both aggressively market products few can spend their entire lives resisting because their advertising budgets are unrivaled and because they have mastered the recipes for broad appeal. Both are aggressively exported to other countries, representing all that is optimistic, colorful, unsubtle and unhealthy about America. Both are harmless in small d...more When I was growing up, I had a hard time remembering that McDonald's and Disney were not the same company. I still have a hard time remembering that. Both aggressively market products few can spend their entire lives resisting because their advertising budgets are unrivaled and because they have mastered the recipes for broad appeal. Both are aggressively exported to other countries, representing all that is optimistic, colorful, unsubtle and unhealthy about America. Both are harmless in small doses but dangerous when they attain the monopoly on a child’s life they’ve been aiming for.

Like Eric Schlosser in Fast Food Nation, Peggy Orenstein examines a corner of our culture that does not take constructive criticism well. It is because of the size of the pink princess deluge driven by Disney and their ilk combined with their defensive refusal to admit any fault or responsibility - “It’s what every girl wants!” - that her work is such a welcome respite.

Sometimes her feminist alternatives to the pink princesses sound soft compared to the roar of her reprimands. Focusing only on the (admittedly daunting) price of the dolls, she misses a major opportunity to understand the brilliance of the American Girl history series. The Princess and The Frog exemplifies feminism in all the ways Beauty and the Beast failed to, yet Orenstein’s review of the film was as weak as its box office performance. And what about those she ignores altogether? Lilo and her sister Nani of Lilo and Stitch are two of the best female characters in cinema history, let alone the Disney canon. Princess Fiona of Shrek is bad-ass and the third film in the series parodies princesses better than any other fairy tale trope. Meanwhile, Pippi Longstocking is worshipped in Northern Europe by boys and girls alike. Indeed, wouldn’t a more pro-active welcoming of boys into the princess culture dilute a lot of its sexism? She does recognize the potential for that revolution, but only briefly.

But for any of her failures to perfectly repair the girly-girl culture, Orenstein offers several impeccable articulations of the problems. Princess stories are problematic when they impose rote scripts and stifle rather than encourage creativity. Sexualization is problematic when the goal is not to receive pleasure but to please a partner in exchange for being approved of as pretty. Social networking online is problematic when “the self becomes a brand to be marketed to others rather than developed from within.” And the Muppets are problematic when, for all their creativity, they still can't come up with more than two female Muppets. I think I’m going to end up quoting her a lot.

The New York Times praised her book while emphasizing that it is little cause for alarm seeing as most girls outgrow the pink princess phase. As a former Snow White wannabe, I know this can be true, but I had kick-ass feminists in my life to help me along the way; I hesitate to agree with the Times’s assertion that “most” do. Orenstein provides depressing figures on the rise of female eating disorders, the recent drop in computer science degrees, the stagnant problem of teen girls equating “feeling good” with “looking hot.” And even while I tend to surround myself with self-confident, intellectual women who define themselves as much more than their prettiness and their purchases, I continue to encounter those fitting Orenstein’s descriptions. They are the ones whose daddies only gave them credit cards, never engaging them in intellectual discussions, and who now avoid debate like an ugly outfit. They are the ones who know that appearing pretty means non-threatening, so self-confidence is tossed out for coyness, self-assertion is abandoned for pouting, and wit is relinquished for fawning giggles. They are the ones who torture themselves over their looks (“I’m so ugly! I’m so fat!”) in order to land a man and then keep him from cheating, spending more of their day unhappy than any other people I know. They are the ones who have not left the princess phase because they do not know how to.

Like the families that rely on fast-food several times a week, too many parents lazily give in to the pink marketer’s schemes and the peer pressure foisted upon their daughters in play groups. There is nothing wrong with the occasional indulgence, just as there is nothing inherently wrong with the color pink. But just as they have demanded healthier Happy Meals and more farmers’ markets, parents should demand more varied toys, activities and role models for their daughters, refusing any monochrome model of girlhood.
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Jul 16, 2011 Meg rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: parenting

I appreciated that the author was honest about the fact that she was wrestling with some of the very same issues I am as the mother of a 3-year-old girl -- how to navigate the girlie-girl culture while keeping her a little girl with a smart head on her shoulders, a confident heart, and equipped for the "real" world. The author bashed just about everything out there, but ended with good advice.
page 192:
"...our role is not to keep the world at bay but to prepare our daughters so they can thrive wi...more

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May 17, 2013 Sarah Jo rated it 1 of 5 stars

Part memoir, part critique, mostly rant, Cinderella Ate My Daughter is one woman's journey through what the world offers to girls. I am just as disgusted with the sassy, inappropriate toys and movies that are marketed to all children, not just girls, but I think her points are not well supported and her writing is so bad. It's easy to get lost in her writing with all the run-on sentences, hyphenated phrases, and parenthetical phrases. I found some of her interviews interesting, but for the most...more

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Feb 25, 2011 Rae rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: society-and-culture, 2011

I really enjoyed this look at what the princess culture might mean for mothers and daughters in this day and age. Some of the chapters really made me think, others made me cringe. I will need to reread this book again to get the full effect of what Orenstein is saying. Which is good in a book.

As for the kindle edition - which is what I ready - I was saddened when the book was over at only 63% because of all the annotations, bibliography, and index. The index is what did the book in and since th...more

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Dec 16, 2011 Krista rated it 4 of 5 stars

Read. This.

Orenstein won me over whole-heartedly in this book when she ripped Bella Swan to shreds. Bella Swan is a twit to end all twits. Queen of the pathetic. Least of the lame. Why. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

We have a lot to do, ladies. A long way to go. Still.

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May 20, 2013 Andrea Wahle rated it 2 of 5 stars

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? In the chapter entitled "It's All About the Cape" she calls Big Barda's husband Mr. Miracle a milquetoast - she is stronger than him and very protective of him, but that does not mean he is weak. She also asserts that Wonder Woman's mother is Hera - the queen of the Amazons. sigh. That would be Hippolyta. Hera is the wife of Zeus - a goddess and considered the qu...more

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Feb 16, 2013 Melissa rated it 4 of 5 stars

Is this book perfect? No. Is it awesome? Yes.

I honestly expected this to be a little more harsh in its princess bashing, and I was OK with that. But Peggy Orenstein is quite thoughtful in her critique. Some other reviewers criticize her for not offering more satisfying solutions in her book. I think they kind of missed the point. Cinderella Ate My Daughter is more of Orentstein's own personal quandary about raising a confident daughter in a very tricky landscape.If she had preached to me about "...more

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Feb 06, 2013 Eva rated it 3 of 5 stars

Interesting and well-written...but I was somehow expecting more. Kindle quotes:

During those months, I must have started a million sentences with “My daughter will never . . .” And then I became a mother. - location 59

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. - location 75

As my little girl made her daily beeline for the dress-up corner of her preschool classroom, I fretted over what playing Little Mermai...more

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Jan 01, 2013 Susan rated it 2 of 5 stars

I wanted to like Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. It looks like the kind of book I'd enjoy - a discussion about raising girls in our culture, yadda yadda yadda. Unfortunately, it falls flat.

Peggy Orenstein begins by bemoaning Disney Princesses. They aspire to nothing more than good looks and a handsome prince. For Pete's sake, the little mermaid gives up her voice to get a man! (this is mentioned about 10 times, I think). Then the author...more I wanted to like Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. It looks like the kind of book I'd enjoy - a discussion about raising girls in our culture, yadda yadda yadda. Unfortunately, it falls flat.

Peggy Orenstein begins by bemoaning Disney Princesses. They aspire to nothing more than good looks and a handsome prince. For Pete's sake, the little mermaid gives up her voice to get a man! (this is mentioned about 10 times, I think). Then the author ventures out to visit a preschool where gender differences are studied, and yikes - the girls are playing with dolls, the boys are playing aggresively. Who'da thunk?

We go visit a child beauty pageant, and Orenstein is appalled at one family's efforts to promote their daughter in these, but at the same time, she can kind of understand it since they have an older son who has special needs. We then have a lengthy talk about Miley Cyrus and how surely we don't want our daughters aspiring to the tawdry mess she's become, but then again, girls seem drawn to her.

It's just 200 pages of back and forth, this-is-bad-yet-what-can-we-do talk. Kind of like having a very long lunch with a friend who is angst-filled and goes back and forth on everything. I think the author summed up her book best when she said, "...my own response, characteristically, was mixed."

I can understand her conflict, especially given her liberal leanings: on the one hand, she's horrified by the suggestive clothing worn by many tween and teenage girls, and even by the voluptuous avatars they choose for online games. On the other hand, she hopes her daughter experiments sexually "long, long, long before marriage!" She wonders, in the pages of this book, whether a ninth-grade girl sending nude photos of herself to male friends is "a form of progress, a sign that at least some of today's girls were taking charge of their sexuality." Seriously? Clearly, this is one conflicted lady.

Then, as if on cue, there was also the political moment: Orenstein is horrified when her 5-year-old daughter spots a Hillary bumper sticker and asks her mom what it says (which is, "The wicked witch of the east is alive and living in NY"). Horrors! Won't little Daisy be traumatized for life to hear that a strong woman like Hillary is criticized because she's less than pretty?! Hmmm ... I guess Orenstein missed all the derogatory stuff out there about George W. Bush - is that due to his appearance and gender, as well? And I'm sure the criticism of Hillary was totally due to her appearance - I can't imagine that it would have anything to do with her political goals.

In the interest of equal time, I suppose, this is followed by a page totally ripping Sarah Palin apart ("she was unable to name a single periodical she read regularly to stay informed"/"she could not describe the job of the vice president"). I guess Orenstein is insinuating that it's bad to tear down a woman in politics if she's ugly, but okay if she's pretty. Okay then.

Anyway, I give Orenstein credit - she's a good marketer. She pulled me in with the book's title and cover, and its promise. However, I won't be reading anything more by her.(less)

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Jan 01, 2013 Hannah Wingfield rated it 4 of 5 stars

I have to thank my friend Katie for lending me this book as she (correctly) thought it was relevant to my interests – feminism, parenting, rants – it’s all good. Cinderella Ate My Daughter sets out to analyse the implications of the “girlie girl” culture that surrounds modern female children, and in doing so takes a long look at the sexualisation and the commodification of childhood. (Word is telling me sexualisation and commodification are not words, but I’m sure they are. If not, then blame my...more

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Dec 11, 2012 Gail rated it 4 of 5 stars

I would love to lock Peggy Orenstein in a room with the authors of “Taming Your Alpha Bitch.” I picture her melting the women with the heat of her wordless disapproving stare, the female misogynists dissolving into fairy-tale-esque piles of snug-fitting skirt suits and spiked heels. She writes of mothers’ struggle to “guide their daughters to an authentic, unconflicted balance of feminism and femininity, one that will sustain rather than constrain them.” In prose that generally flows but tends t...more I would love to lock Peggy Orenstein in a room with the authors of “Taming Your Alpha Bitch.” I picture her melting the women with the heat of her wordless disapproving stare, the female misogynists dissolving into fairy-tale-esque piles of snug-fitting skirt suits and spiked heels. She writes of mothers’ struggle to “guide their daughters to an authentic, unconflicted balance of feminism and femininity, one that will sustain rather than constrain them.” In prose that generally flows but tends to favor academic hyper-accuracy and inclusivity at the expense of readability (yes, I’m the pot, but she’s still black), she dissects the pink princess craze as a symptom of a “clearly hazardous” larger societal problem: “over-emphasizing a girl’s looks.” As girls grow, the pitfalls morph from over-consumption of plastic princess paraphernalia and internalization of its message (that good things happen to females who look pretty and wait patiently) to answering social media’s siren call of branding and marketing oneself.

I’m not sure I totally buy Orenstein’s conclusion – that identity, femininity, and sex all “become a performance, something to ‘do’ rather than to ‘experience’” which keeps girls from understanding their own needs and asserting themselves – but there’s something to it. Her feminism tiptoes right up to the line of off-putting, over-sensitive nagging, but stops just short, making fair points that resonate with me. No, I don’t interpret “The Little Mermaid” as a message that one must give up her voice to win a man (after all, Ariel was independently intrigued by the world above long before she met Prince Eric, and she made a series of calculated and brazen choices). But strangers are more likely to comment on my daughter’s looks or outfit than my son’s in making small talk, and salespeople do automatically offer her the pink balloon. When Orenstein writes that girls are taught “that sexiness confers power – unless you use it,” I simultaneously think, “well, that’s true” and cringe about the age at which the message is communicated by the two-piece leopard and hot pink toddler bathing suit I ran across at Target. I don’t swallow her theories whole, but there’s plenty of value to chew on.

On the other hand, like a kid on the chocolate train at the Hershey’s factory, I’m totally on board with Orenstein’s practical suggestions. She proposes that mothers refrain from commenting on our own appearance as much as possible. This admonition jives with advice I once heard for combating disordered eating in young girls: if a pair of pants makes your ass look big, criticize the pants as unflattering, not the ass. (Hmm, sartorial aspersion. “You call that a pant leg? More like a Chinese handcuff, you useless pair of you-know-what. You’re like seersucker, always just hanging around, waiting for a day in the sun that will never come.” I can do that.) She also recommends telling your daughter she’s beautiful, but not when she’s all gussied up and not just on the outside, suggesting phrases like “everything about you is beautiful.” As she ages, Orenstein says to “talk with her” about how films and products present girls because dialogue “in the end, is the best weapon we parents have.” While she supports limiting access to toys or media, she warns against “[g]oing all Amish on your middle school or high school daughter” so as to avoid backlash in the form of infatuation with the forbidden fruit.

Orenstein acknowledges that walking this line and finding alternatives can be hard. I know. I realized that my three year-old daughter’s costume box had become a little tutu-heavy and aimed to diversify, ordering a chef costume and pilot garb. The Melissa and Doug “role play” sets came in packaging bearing a photo array of all the outfits produced by the company. As I excitedly opened her present, she looked toward the discarded insert with ever-widening eyes, finally uttering, in an awed whisper, “Mommy, can I have that one?” My inner lioness roared in frustration when I saw her adorable mini-finger pointing to the pink and purple hair stylist costume. And yet I soldier on, aided by Orenstein’s one specific product endorsement – Hayao Miyazaki’s movies that portray girls as “neither hyperfeminine nor drearily feminist” – and her bottom line: just do what you can to counteract the message that “how you look is how you feel, as well as who you are” and help “girls to see themselves from the inside out rather than outside in.”

My only real criticism is that Orenstein ought to write more, including how we can parent our boys both to see girls from the inside out and to help girls see themselves that way, as well as updates on her daughter’s development (like Amy Chua, she writes with anecdotal evidence that would be more compelling if her daughter weren’t still battling it out in the trenches of youth).

While her dry, sparse humor and serious subject matter render Orenstein’s book ineligible for the page-turner award, I highly recommend it as a worthwhile read for all parents, not just those whose daughters dissolve in hysterics when told they may not wear tiaras to bed.(less)

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Nov 30, 2012 Mary rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: family-and-relationships, nonfiction, self-help-psychology

The author writes on the theory that the girlie-girl princess culture that has been developing during the last decade is actually not as protective of childhood and innocence as we hope it to be, but that it actually opens windows to early sexualization and unhealthy body images/self-esteem.

It's a pretty feminist book, and makes some pretty good points. Here is the author's recommendation on how to raise girls with a healthy self-image:

----Stress what your daughter's body can do over how it is d...more

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Sep 21, 2012 Dimity rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: 2011, feminism, npr-told-me-to, parenting, read-women-nonfiction, reading-women-2011, questioning-gender, group-reads, reviewed

Cinderella Ate My Daughter was an entertaining read, but it’s not really a “stick to your ribs” type of nonfiction. Orenstein is a journalist and she writes like one. I generally find that journalists write very accessible and entertaining books that cover a wide shallow pond instead of a deep well. Although I often enjoy that sort of cherry picked light analysis for topics I am just fleetingly interested in, I found it deeply unsatisfying for her subject material. I am concerned about this topi...more Cinderella Ate My Daughter was an entertaining read, but it’s not really a “stick to your ribs” type of nonfiction. Orenstein is a journalist and she writes like one. I generally find that journalists write very accessible and entertaining books that cover a wide shallow pond instead of a deep well. Although I often enjoy that sort of cherry picked light analysis for topics I am just fleetingly interested in, I found it deeply unsatisfying for her subject material. I am concerned about this topic as a new mother of a daughter and disappointed I came away from this book without any worthwhile conclusions.

If I had read this book before having my daughter, I probably would have really liked it and been forgiving. However, now that I have a daughter and worry about what her childhood will be like and what kind of adult she will grow into, I found this book to be disappointing. It may be more my misplaced expectations for anticipating at least a little bit of “how to” advice than any failure on Orenstein’s part but the disappointment lingers. I guess the presentation and title of it don’t explicitly say that it set out to be a parenting guide. But the publicity for this book (I heard and read multiple interviews that positioned it as a guide more than narrative) and Orenstein’s past forays into the topic of raising girls led me to believe that it would be more substantive. I’m not exactly thrilled to learn that there are no easy answers to the issues she discusses in this book.

I read this book (and started writing this review) when my daughter was still in the larval stage. Now she’s almost 2 and showing no real inclination towards anything “girly”. She probably wears more pink and sparkles than I’d like because they’re so prevalent and (ok, I’ll admit it) cute, but she likes her cars and trucks as much as her stuffed animals, has no use for dolls, has never seen a Disney movie (although she does watch other tv) and was decidedly ambivalent about the tutu her aunt bought for her. I know that she is still young and mother-daughter struggles over what is appropriate are probably lying in wait in the bushes further down the parenting path, but I am relieved that so far it’s a non-issue for me. I will continue to quietly donate and return Barbies and Disney Princess items that are given to her while I still have the luxury of it not being a fight.
(less)

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Sep 13, 2012 Christina Wilder rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: nonfiction

It's a scary time to be a little girl.

Sure, that's an unfair statement, as is it ever safe to be a little girl? Still, we have the Paris Hiltons and Kim Kardashians (and the Snookis!) famous for being famous, plus princess stuff EVERYWHERE. I've always detested the nickname princess as it suggests a royal girl who has people waiting on her hand and foot as she waits for her prince. Fuck that, I say.

So what's great about this book? It takes a damn close look at what the author deems "the girlie-g...more

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Jul 14, 2012 Sara rated it 1 of 5 stars

I wanted to read this book first off to maybe gain a bit of insight into the mind of a young girl in the current society. I guess I just assumed it was so much different than when I was growing up (I'm only turning 30 in March, so I'm not that old) because everyone laments on and on about how society is different and jesus- look at all of these sexed up and pregnant teenage girls cursing up a storm. Obviously, I don't want any of these things for my own daughter and I have enough brains to know...more

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Jul 07, 2012 Elizabeth Hall Magill rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: feminism

So I just read Cinderella Ate My Daughter, by Peggy Orenstein. Reading this book was like having a long, open discussion with a friend, another writer/mom who is trying to raise a daughter with consciousness and confidence. Ms. Orenstein examines all the major media influences with which girls must contend, from princesses to Facebook and everything in between. At times, I wanted to tell her to relax, it’ll all be okay—she’s a good mom, and she’s raising her child with awareness and love, which...more So I just read Cinderella Ate My Daughter, by Peggy Orenstein. Reading this book was like having a long, open discussion with a friend, another writer/mom who is trying to raise a daughter with consciousness and confidence. Ms. Orenstein examines all the major media influences with which girls must contend, from princesses to Facebook and everything in between. At times, I wanted to tell her to relax, it’ll all be okay—she’s a good mom, and she’s raising her child with awareness and love, which means she’s doing the best she can do (a message we could all stand to hear from time to time, myself included). At other times, I wanted to jump up and yell, “Sing it, sister!” because she was articulating thoughts I hadn’t fully worked out in my head, or saying something I’ve tried to say, but getting it so right-on, so succinctly, that her words were part confirmation, part affirmation, and nothing but the truth, so help us God.

My favorite chapter in the book, in which Ms. Orenstein analyzes the careers of real-life Disney princesses like Miley Cyrus and Britney Spears, is entitled “Wholesome to Whoresome: The Other Disney Princesses.” I liked this chapter in part because it educated me—I tend to ignore the Disney Channel, and my kids don’t watch its programming. I often learn about a young starlet’s romantic life and wonder, along with why I should care who she’s dating, who on earth she is. Turns out, more often than not, she’s been the star of a Disney show and is now all grown up—which, of course, explains why I should care who she dates.

The chapter not only educated me about the names of Disney starlets; it also laid out the progression such a starlet makes—from child star to tween with her own hit show and merchandising line to gyrating, scantily-clad adolescent. The author sums up my own distaste for this cycle—and the effect it might have on my children—beautifully: “The virgin/whore cycle of the pop princesses, like so much of the girlie-girl culture…encourages girls to view self-objectification as a feminine rite of passage.” (p.130)

While discussing Britney Spears, the author articulates exactly what this “rite of passage” might mean for not-so-rich-and-famous girls: “They, too, struggle with the expectation to look sexy and not feel sexual, to provoke desire in others without experiencing it themselves. Our daughters may not be faced with the decision of whether to strip for Maxim, but they will have to figure out how to become sexual beings without being objectified or stigmatized.” (pp. 123–124)

In addition to examining princesses—both the fairy and pop varieties—the author, who is a journalist, interviews gender experts about their research, attends toy fairs, reads and retells the original versions of some of the most famous fairy tales, and spends time with the parents of young girls on the beauty pageant circuit. Her book doesn’t just condemn the “girlie-girl culture”—it truly analyzes it. She recognizes that the companies that produce our culture only do so because it is profitable, and that parents (including herself) spend money on products they don’t necessarily condone for a variety of complex reasons.

Ultimately, the author reaches the same conclusion I have: there are no easy answers to any of this stuff, but the best thing you can do for your daughter is to help her cultivate both self-awareness and cultural awareness. Be informed about the culture that inundates her from toddlerhood to teenagehood and beyond. And talk.

Because this is a book about girls and culture, the author only rarely mentions boys. But as I read, I found myself continually thinking about my son. I think, sometimes, in our concern about how girls will grow into healthy, whole people despite the commodification of their sexuality, we forget that this commodification affects boys as well. One of the mothers Ms. Orenstein spoke with expressed frustration over the fact that her boy, a teenager, had just received a topless photo on his cellphone from a female classmate. This mother wondered how she was supposed to teach her son that girls are not merely sexual objects if the girls themselves are encouraging boys to view them as objects. Good question, that.

All of the aspects of culture that Ms. Orenstein examines—from gendered toys to Miley Cyrus hanging from a stripper pole to virtual friendships—affect boys just as profoundly as they affect girls. And boys have a whole host of other issues to deal with—messages from culture about what it means to be masculine, which includes the concept of pride in sexual conquest, a counterpoint to the self-objectification of girls. And, increasingly, boys are participating in sexual self-objectification, which I believe lowers rather than levels the playing field. Rather than teaching our kids to objectify one another, we should be teaching them mutual respect and helping them to develop the emotional and psychological strength to deal with their own desire as well as the desire of others.

So now my wheels are turning…if Cinderella ate my daughter, what are Prince Charming and Iron Man doing to my son? That is food for thought…and maybe a book, by Ms. Orenstein or another brave soul.

In the meantime, if you are the parent of a daughter—or a son who might one day date someone’s daughter—I highly recommend Cinderella Ate My Daughter. In fact, I think they should hand it out with those cigars that say, in proud pink cellophane, “It’s A Girl!”(less)

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Jul 06, 2012 Dawn rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: kindling, random-nonfiction

As the mother of one "girlie-girl" and one "tomboy", I was interested to read this book about the potential effects of the new "Girlie-Girl" culture.

How disappointing! The author writes in the gossipy, girlfriendish tone of the overprotective mom-next-door. There are many anecdotes from the lives of her friends (she stops to note one whose body she envies), but little real research. Most of the book seemed extreme and over-the-top. If anything, I finished the book more assured that I should let...more

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Jun 28, 2012 Alex rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: 2012

I was so looking forward to this book. I have a bizarre fascination with girl culture that I myself have never quite understood, especially images shot out to young girls/tweenagers (princesses, Disney Channel sitcoms, etc). So when I saw this book, I was so excited because I thought, "Hooray! A book suited to my interests!" And to be fair Orenstein offers good critiques of the subject, covering things from fat-shaming to Facebook.
However, I had a few problems with the structure of the book. It...more

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About Peggy Orenstein

Peggy Orenstein is the author, most recently, of Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. Her previous books include The New York Times best-selling memoir, Waiting for Daisy; Flux: Women on Sex, Work, Kids, Love and Life in a Half-Changed World; and the best-selling SchoolGirls: Young Women, Self-Esteem and the Confidence Gap. A contributing writ...more

More about Peggy Orenstein...

Books by Peggy Orenstein

Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, an Oscar, an Atomic Bomb, a Romantic Night, and One Woman's Quest to Become a Mother

Schoolgirls: Young Women, Self Esteem, and the Confidence Gap

Flux: Women on Sex, Work, Love, Kids, and Life in a Half-Changed World

When We Were Free to Be: Looking Back at a Children's Classic and the Difference It Made

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“But it is Bella, not the supernaturals she falls in with, who is the true horror show here, at least as a female role model.” — 14 people liked it

“There is only one princess in the Disney tales, one girl who gets to be exalted. Princesses may confide in a sympathetic mouse or teacup, but they do not have girlfriends. God forbid Snow White should give Sleeping Beauty a little support. Let's review: princesses avoid female bonding. Their goals are to be saved by a prince, get married, and be taken care of the rest of their lives.” — 4 people liked it

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