#tbt

Today's Throwback Thursday is from 1984 -- not sure exactly when, but definitely in the Spring. These are my (amazing, wonderful, adorable) parents on their first trip together -- my mom had never been, and my dad wanted her to experience it. They have a whole album at home of their trip and (1) they were absolutely adorable -- no, seriously: they went to a character breakfast and took all these goofy pictures; it's weird to see yourself in your parents (because my husband and I totally did that on our first trip together); and (2) it's amazing to look at the photos and realize there was only the Magic Kingdom and EPCOT -- which wasn't even as developed as it is today.

Also--I'm here, too. My mom was -- unbeknownst to her at the time! -- pregnant with me during this trip, so this is my (un?)official first visit to Disney World. Again--my connection to Disney really shouldn't be a surprise.

#tbt

So, one of my Spring Break projects was to collect a few old family photos for our Photo Wall. I've always loved photo walls -- my aunt has several collages lining her staircase and my sister-in-law has a beautiful photo wall (lots of teal/aqua frames) along her upstairs hallways. There's something about old photos...it's cliche to say that they're windows to the past, but they are. I'm fascinated by the details -- like my grandparents in front of a train station in Berlin or my husband's grandparents in front of the church that his grandfather literally helped build (and it's still standing in Western Virginia). It's amazing -- and something I don't know if we'll have much longer. Do people print photos anymore? Or is it all digital?

Regardless--I spent a very chill, relaxed afternoon with my mom last weekend paging through old photo albums. And, as it turns out, we played a fun game of "Spot The Disney References." Seriously--it really shouldn't be a surprise that I love Disney so much. It's not just family vacations to Orlando, it's in the books I read, the decorations on the wall, the 80s fashion.

So, to honor that past, I bring you: Throwback Thursday.

The inaugural picture is actually of my dad -- in 1977, when he and his college friends took a road trip down to Orlando. My dad is actually the one who started it all -- he was actually the one who initiated the biannual family vacations. He got burned out somewhere around the mid 1990s -- right around the time my brother and I were tweens -- and hasn't really been back since. (We're hoping to change that this October!)

It's not the greatest picture, but you can clearly see my Dad's Disney World shirt with Mickey Mouse. 

New TeeTurtle Design

I am a sucker for nerdy t-shirts -- sites like Teefury and TeeTurtle are awful for my budget. They're just so versatile. I mean--I wear them to Disney and get lots of nerd-love (from both cast-members and other visitors--it's like you've found a kindred spirit when you see someone wearing a Karen Hallion Disney/Doctor Who crossover shirt); paired with a blazer or a cardigan, they're great for work during the academic year; and I wear them a lot over the summer when I teach at the writing camp.

Today's new release was "Rebel Princess" -- and let's be real. It's probably going to arrive on my doorstep shortly.

And I'm not even a big Star Wars fan. But do know a lot of people who will appreciate the fact that Leia is included. (I need to rewatch them before I pass judgment on her damsel-in-distress, sexualized object status. While Leia is known for her white robes and side buns, I'd say that her metal bikini is equally iconic. But again, I don't know nearly enough about them to confidently say anything.)

Beauty and the Beast Casting

I can't let the weekend pass by without commenting on the Beauty and the Beast casting news:

First--Luke Evans as been cast as Gaston. While at first I was reluctant to think of Bard from The Hobbit as a villain (he killed Smaug the Cumber-Dragon!), the photos circulating the Interwebz have won me over:

Physically, he's a great choice. I still don't know if this adaptation will include all those musical numbers, and I have no idea if he can sing, but still. Promising.

Then--Dan Stevens -- a.k.a. Downton Abbey's Matthew Crawley -- was cast as The Beast. And...I really want to not like this casting choice. When Stevens left Downton Abbey and broke Lady Mary's heart, sending her back into that cold, distant shell, I was heartbroken too.

But...

That's adorable. I can't even. 

Also this:

I have high hopes for this movie -- if only because I'd love to see a more feminist story -- so don't let me down guys.

Let The Storm Rage On

For some reason, I've been thinking about Elsa a lot today -- I can't quite seem to...let it go.

Okay. That was a bad pun. But, regardless, I've been thinking a lot about the conversation surrounding Elsa.

Continuing yesterday's post/thoughts, this afternoon I came across "How Disney Got 'Sexy' Right" -- which was written in response to the Slate article I linked to in yesterday's post. She and I make similar cases for Elsa but she pointed out some things that I didn't consider -- namely that while Elsa does undergo a physical transformation, this isn't your typical movie makeover a la Sandy in Grease:

"Further, during the makeover scene, Elsa is not being watched or “ogled” by anyone.  There is no external judge determining whether she is attractive/sexy based on her appearance. (Despite the audience being privy to this otherwise private moment for the character.) She is alone and celebrating her own liberation.  I think it is critical to remember what we, the audience, do not see.  We do not see others watching her in this moment.  We do not see a group of onlookers whistling with their over-exaggerated character eyes bugging at her appearance.  (Think, Jessica Rabbit.)  And we do not see her seeking the approval of others."

Preach, Holli Long. And she raises some important questions too:

Though Grease was released nearly 40 years ago, how often do we still see this opposite “Sandy” message?  How often do we see the portrayal of a character, “real” or animated, who is “sexy” when they are putting on an appearance for others?  When they choose their attire based on what others will think of them?  When they are not expressing their true selves, but the self they want others to see and accept based on some unrealistic image of beauty? Sadly, too often.

 It's an important distinction to make, I think -- whether or not someone else sees the transformation, whether or not the character makes the change for herself (or for himself!).

Interestingly, I've always found the viral video of the Marines watching "Let It Go" a little...well, let's just say I didn't find it as sweet as many did:

As Aaron O'Connell points out over at The Daily Beast, "Marines in their moment of “true emotional liberation.” But they had missed the point entirely. Emotional liberation is not what’s going on in the video. It’s the sexy cartoon princess that has the Marines so worked up." The rest of the article focuses on the military, a subject I don't profess to know anything about.

But I do know that, in grad school, we discussed Laura Mulvey's concept of "the Male Gaze"  a lot. The theory basically says that texts presuppose a heterosexual male audience, and that women are consequently portrayed as sexual objects. And this video works to bring that heterosexual male audience back into play -- as a Disney movie, specifically a Disney princess movie, the target audience for Frozen should be kids, and more specifically, female kids. So a scene that's meant to be empower is hyper-sexualized when you've got a hyper-masculine audience (they're Marines!) emphatically cheering for "sexy Elsa."

And, I mean, we should cheer for sexy Elsa. But not because her "magical makeover," as Nathaniel R. points out "seems to involve not just dress-making but elaborate undergarment construction. Push up bra and a girdle, emirate? Note how she's just a slip of a thing in her queenly garb. But as soon as she lets her snowy powers out she's suddenly sexualized with larger breast and teensy waist." 

(Okay. Yes. The sparkly ice dress does seem to accentuate her upper half, but the coronation dress is supposed to be modest and...restricting. Her waist doesn't seem that much smaller, IMHO. At least it's larger than her neck. But it's also worth noting that the dress does not have a thigh-high slit. It's definitely just above her knee here.)

Instead, we should cheer "Sexy Elsa" for doing what few people have the courage to do -- for, in the words of Holli Long, "Not hiding or changing who you are or what you look like for the sake of others or society."

"Fashion is not about utility. An accessory is merely a piece of iconography used to express individual identity."

Today's Pocket Princess brought to you by Amy Mebberson:

I love this one--so much. I mean, I'm going to love anything with Elsa, but this is just awesome. 

And, it needs to be said, I love Elsa's ice-queen dress -- and that they're copying the style of it for Frozen Fever. I know that it's received a lot of criticism -- for the very thing that Amy Mebberson pokes fun at here: it's a very form-fitting, slinky dress with a  very high slit. 

(Although, I'm not sure Snow White would be the prudish one...I bet that would be Cinderella. Or Aurora. Those 1950s girls...I can see Snow White rocking it -- especially with her curvier figure. But this digression has gone on a bit too long.)

Back to Elsa's dress: some people don't like it--and I kinda understand why. 

Example #1: In a blog post titled "Does "Frozen" Ballad Send The Wrong Message" by Stacy-Ann Gooden, she ultimately thinks the song doesn't, but quotes an NPR to help argue her case. She quotes a few of the comment-responses, and one commenter in particular sums things up nicely:

“I love the message of the song, but I wish the character visually represented the lyrics. It seems the animators couldn’t help but visually send the message that “letting it go” means putting on high heels, caking your face in make-up, and showing very little passion in your face (aside from constantly smiling) during the emotionally charged parts of the song. Visually, this still sends the wrong message that girls must still be worried about being sexy during their journey of self discovery and empowerment.” (my emphasis)

There's also an article over at Slate by Dana Stevens, titled "I Can't 'Let It Go'." This might be the piece which received the most attention, and in it, Stevens says,

"...That perfect girl is gone,” she declares as she ditches her old look (a modest dark-green dress and purple cloak, hair in a neatly tucked-up braid) for one that’s arguably even more “perfect.” By the time she sashays out onto that balcony to greet the dawn, Elsa is clad in a slinky, slit-to-the-thigh dress with a transparent snowflake-patterned train and a pair of silver-white high heels, her braid shaken loose and switched over one shoulder in what’s subtly, but unmistakably, a gesture of come-hither bad-girl seduction." (my emphasis)

I think the last comments by Stevens trouble me the most -- the idea that Elsa's physical, outward transformation is "unmistakably" -- such a strong word -- "a gesture of come-hither-bad-girl seduction."

Why? Why does Elsa -- in her new dress -- have to be a bad girl? Why do we have to interpret this as seduction? After all, who is she seducing? She's alone in her ice palace on top of an isolated mountain -- there are no men (or women) around. To me, it's not like Jasmine prancing around the palace dressed like a belly-dancer or a harem girl. Or Pocahontas traipsing through the woods in a tiny, one-shoulder dress. Or Esmeralda provocatively dancing through the Parisian square (although that's relevant to the plot of the movie).

We, as an American society, tend to vilify female sexuality. There are so many instances of double-standards: if a guy has a "one-night stand" (a problematic term in and of itself), he's slapped on the back and praised for his behavior; if a girl has one, she's a "slut" or "easy." Only girls do the "walk of shame." It's such a Victorian concept -- the idea that female sexuality is somehow a dangerous thing -- and we still haven't let go of it.

After all, "Let It Go" is a ballad of empowerment and the value of being true to yourself--and the fact that Elsa's outward transformation is vilified despite her inner transformation...well, it hurts my heart. I know it's a children's movie, but I don't think you can easily say that Elsa's physical changes are connected to her sexuality.

Sexuality in Disney is a notoriously tricky subject. Scholars have lambasted Disney for the stark dichotomy traditionally used: "good" characters are the pure and chaste young princesses; "evil" characters are the seductive, sexual middle-aged villainesses. In the fairy tales that pit women against women, beauty and jealousy are usually at the heart of the conflict. Even in a film as recent as Tangled, Mother Gothel keeps Rapunzel locked up so that she use Rapunzel's magic to stay young and beautiful -- it's essentially Snow White, but 70 years later. Regardless, in Disney films, "good" girls are asexual at best -- they're prim, they're proper, and when they're in love, they bat their eyelashes, smile sweetly, and never give their beaux more than a chaste True Love's Kiss.

Which is a horrible message to send to young girls -- the idea that their sexual identity is something that they should be ashamed of. But when we finally get a Disney heroine who shows a smidgeon of sexuality, she's attacked for it.

And the thing is, the amount of detail that went into Elsa's transformation is so important. In Arendelle, Elsa has been raised (by probably the worst parents ever) to fear her own identity: she shoves down her emotions, represses her magic, and keeps everything bottled up. In the film, we see this visually in (1) her gloves -- which hide her powers and which she relies on as a mask when she starts to lose control; (2) her formal royal attire -- see her high-necked gown with the full skirt and especially the cape, which, sitting on her shoulders, literally envelops her and enfolds her in a blanket of repression; and, finally, (3) her hairstyle -- with the tight braids and the tightly-wound bun, we never see a hair on adult-Elsa's head out of place.

So, during "Let It Go," Elsa sheds each of those symbols of her repression and fear. First, she sends the gloves spiraling off into the snow. Then, in a move that would make Edna Mode proud, she lets the cape go and it flutters away into the distance. Finally, after she's loosened up and experimented with her powers, she changes the way she looks. She loses her modest, confining gown and trades it for a looser, freer, ice-inspired gown. And, perhaps most importantly, she literally lets down her hair -- in the process, tossing away her tiara, another trapping of her repressed state -- opting for a messy braid bedazzled with tiny snowflakes. But it's also important, because, as "Do You Wanna Build A Snowman" shows us, the braid is her connection to her younger self -- the self that built snowmen and ran around the halls with Anna. It's only once her parents leave -- once the fear and anxiety have truly set in, heightened by her being in charge during her parents' absence -- that she adopts her more conservative, repressive hairstyle. Elsa's hairstyle mirrors her internal state.

So if new, empowered, freer Elsa wants to wear a dress with a thigh-high slit, I say, "You go, girl!" If she wants to wear sparkly high-heels, more power to her. If she wants to wear purple eyeshadow, why shouldn't she? What's so wrong with that? The quote in the title of this blog post comes from The Devil Wears Prada -- such a great movie about the power of fashion in general. But in Frozen, Disney reflects the idea that "Fashion is not about utility...[but is] used to express individual identity."

Elsa's not changing clothes for a man, she's not doing it for attention, she's doing it because she wants her outside to match what she feels on the inside. And if that involves wearing a sparkly dress and some high-heels, then that's what right for her. Do empowered women have to wear pantsuits and practical suits? If they want to, sure. But if she wants to wear a dress and heels, then she should have that choice and that freedom. To say that doing so makes her a "bad girl" -- well, that seems dangerously close to the claim that a girl who wore a short skirt was "asking" to be raped. That statement is in no way intended to trivialize the trauma of rape. Instead, I mean to connect the idea that women's fashion choices somehow reflect their sexuality and their personality -- that women who wear high heels and short skirts or form-clothes are more promiscuous and are "bad."

Is Elsa sexy in this moment, in this dress? Absolutely. But as much as her dress and shoes contribute to this, I think her sexiness is heightened by her confidence. In this moment, she has built a kick-ass ice palace, created life (Olaf!), and accepted who she is: that's confidence. What other people think doesn't matter--after all, as she tells us, "I'm alone, but I'm alone and free." And this is what makes Elsa a truly unique and empowering Disney heroine: for once, sexiness means confidence, not waiting helplessly for a man to rescue you.

Lily James at the Cinderella Premiere

I kinda wish I knew Lily James in person -- I would love to know if she's as sweet and kind and good-natured as she seems in her acting roles. She's Lady Rose on Downton Abbey, and they've kind of evolved her character so that her temperament matches her name -- especially this season. And Lady Rose is basically Cinderella in the 1920s. So the casting for the Disney film seems particularly apropos.

And she looked absolutely stunning a couple nights ago at the premiere of Cinderella--like a real-life princess:

THAT DRESS. I am not overly savvy when it comes to high-fashion -- sometimes, I quizzically scratch my head when I see what celebrities wear or what models wear on the runway -- but I am in love with this dress. (Except the pockets. I'm not a fan of pockets.) It's a subtle homage to the 1950 animated dress, but modernized. 

 That train, that back. As a former swimmer, I'm a sucker for a dress that shows off and flatters the back. And the train? How could you not feel like a princess in that dress.

But the killer part? The shoes. A girl can't be Cinderella without her glass slippers:

There's a beautiful 360-degree video over at Facebook.They look really uncomfortable, really impractical, and I don't even care. I want to put them on and twirl around. (I'd probably fall though.)

I don't consider myself to be a girly-girl -- and I'm fully aware that a lot of women's fashion is rooted in traditional gender norms -- but sometimes a nice pair of shoes and a pretty dress are all it takes to make me smile. And I fully admit that I wanted to be a Disney princess when I was little. (There are times when I still want to be a Disney princess...) And I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Want All The Things

I'm such a good little Disney consumerist. These appeared on the Disney Store website today:

They're Frozen-themed Tsum Tsums. 

To be honest, I'm not sure I even know what a Tsum Tsum is. I think they're supposed to be cute, squishy, and, for some reason, stackable plush...things. And they are cute. But I didn't quite understand the "craze" that Disney was trying to incite. 

But then they released Anna and Elsa and Sven and...I want them. Even Olaf and Kristoff are adorable! Hans...well, he's Hans. He rounds out the pyramid, I guess. 

Cinderella on the Brain

With the live-action adaptation of Disney's Cinderella hitting theaters in just a couple of days, Cinderella seems to be everywhere.

A couple of days ago, Duke University's Facebook page posted a link to the following: an interview with Assistant Professor of Sociology (at Duke) Jessi Streib, titled "What Happens When Rich People Marry Poor People."

The article is an interesting read -- and it comments a lot on class divisions and gender roles, something I'm always fascinated by. 

But I'm not blogging about the content -- I'm not a sociologist, and, regardless, I don't disagree with her conclusions; on the contrary, I find them really interesting.

But I am a children's literature/Disney scholar, and so what piqued my interest was the decision to put the disney photo of Cinderella and Prince Charming underneath the article title. As far as I can tell -- since there's no mention of Disney or Cinderella in the interview -- the implication is that the "rich people" are represented by Prince Charming and the "poor people" are represented by Cinderella. After all, the story of Cinderella is often referred to as a rags-to-riches story wherein the penniless scullery maid rises through the ranks to marry the eligible and charming prince. 

But...here's the thing that gets me: Cinderella may be penniless, she may be a maid, and she may sleep in the attic and sit in the ashes but she's not from the lower class. 

The "original" version by Perrault is a little vague on the subject -- depending on the translation, her father is either a "gentleman" or a "worthy man." Her stepmother is described as a proud and haughty woman and the family is obviously well-enough off to afford rich clothes and jewel suitable for balls at the palace. Similarly, in the Grimms' version, the father is described as a "rich man." 

Then, in the 1950 Disney version, the film opens while Cinderella's father is still alive: the storybook narrator tells us that, "Here, in a stately chateau, there lived a widowed gentleman and his little daughter, Cinderella. Although he was a kind and devoted father, and gave his beloved child every luxury and comfort, still he felt she needed a mother's care. " 

So, here's the thing -- and one of the things that always bothers me about adaptations of Cinderella -- if Cinderella's father is rich and is a gentleman, then Cinderella is the daughter of a rich man and a gentleman. Until her father remarries, she grows up in a pretty luxurious atmosphere -- she's not royalty, but she's most likely a member of the nobility or the upper-class. 

But that fact seems to get lost in adaptation -- and it's always bugged me. 

Take Ever After (1998) for instance. I loved this movie when it came out -- heck, I still do: Drew Barrymore as a feistier, hard-working Cinderella who reads? Da Vinci as her fairy godmother? Yes, please. The plot hinges on the fact that Danielle (as Cinderella is called here) poses as a noblewoman to get her servant back (long story). She gives her mother's name -- and her mother was a countess. But somehow, even though her mother was a countess, Danielle is still considered to be a serving girl -- and hijinks straight out of Pride & Prejudice ensue, resulting, of course, in a happily ever after. It's true that her father isn't really referred to as a count -- just her mother as a countess. And it's true that her stepmother (played by the incomparable Anjelica Houston) seems to be a Baroness in her own right. So maybe Danielle's parents were of different classes -- the countess married someone well beneath here and was hence stripped of her title. But the chateau that Danielle lives in -- her family home and estate -- doesn't really reflect that. 

So maybe I'm missing some integral part of French class divisions -- that a daughter is stripped of her titles and status when her father dies. But...that seems odd. 

In all of these versions, Cinderella is born into the upper-class -- and so, to me, her marriage to the Prince can't represent an inter-class marriage. Yes, her evil step-family treats her horribly: they psychologically abuse her; they degrade her and relegate her to the position of servant; they ostracize her from the family dynamic. Does that mean she's not still a member of the upper-class? Technically, perhaps. But in spirit? No.

And isn't that the point of Cinderella? Especially of the 1950 version? That even though she's fallen from her position of privilege, even though she's serving the people who are supposed to be her family, even though life has thrown her some horrible curveballs, Cinderella's kindness and sweetness and goodness triumph over all. She's defined by her heritage and her birth and her parents' -- particularly her mother's -- legacy, not through current circumstances. And when the Prince falls in love with her and they get married, it makes sense: they are both good, kind, upper-class people so of course they should end up together. 

Disney's Cinderella has got a lot going on -- particularly with regards to heteronormative gender roles and the stoic passivity with which Cinderella accepts horrible treatment. But, it was released in 1950, and things were different. But introducing class into the movie...I'm not sure that's a fair criticism. After all, Disney's narrator explicitly states that Cinderella's father, for his second wife, chooses a "woman of good family" -- which I take to mean "good breeding" which in turn implies "upper class." So class doesn't really come into play here: our heroine's a member of the upper-class as is our villain. 

If Cinderella had been an actual servant who rose through the ranks -- if she hadn't been a step-daughter -- then we might have a rags-to-riches story. Given the title of the article, there are a couple other Disney movies that would have been more appropriate. 

Like, for instance,  Beauty and the Beast: Belle grows up in a small provincial town (we're hit over the head with that, aren't we?) but she eventually marries the Beast, who is, in fact, a prince. Inter-class marriage.

In Aladdin, Aladdin is literally a street rat, the diamond in the rough. But he eventually marries Princess Jasmine. Inter-class marriage.

In Tangled, Flynn is literally a thief. But he eventually marries Princess Rapunzel. Inter-class marriage.

And in The Princess and the Frog, Tiana works not one, but two, jobs to raise enough money to open her own restaurant. But she marries Prince Naveen in a -- you guessed it -- inter-class marriage. 

If you want to include a picture from a Disney movie in an article about marriages between rich people and poor people, I'm not sure Cinderella was the best choice here. Yes, it's the quintessential rags-to-riches story, but, if you think about, it's actually more of a riches-to-rags-to-riches story. I have a feeling that Cinderella and Prince Charming would probably not have the same fights and discussions in their marriage that Aladdin and Jasmine or that Tiana and Naveen would have. 

But, of course, they all lived happily ever after so class differences probably don't matter for them.