You dont have to join, I just clicked on the link at the bootom of the reg page to go to the paper and did a search in princess.
Here is a copy of the article.
Disney discovers the power of packaging.
Together, princesses rule over little girls' imaginations
By Jeff Gammage
Inquirer Staff Writer
These days, you hear a lot of talk about dark forces trying to take over the world.
But the plotters aren't who you think - Islamic fundamentalists, right-wing Christian evangelicals, big-spending Massachusetts liberals, or even, say, executives at Microsoft.
No, the people intent on conquering the world - and I'm here to tell you they're succeeding - are far more insidious:
The Disney Princesses.
The ringleaders? Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty (who sometimes uses the alias "Aurora"). They're abetted by Belle, Ariel and Jasmine, a trio of newer bluebloods who tend to shun the traditional gang colors of pink and powder blue.
For half a century, the Walt Disney Co. was content to let each princess rule her own individual kingdom. Snow White might leave her castle to visit the dwarfs, but never would she cross the celluloid boundary to have tea with Cinderella. She certainly wasn't to go searching for seashells with Ariel.
But four years ago, Disney decided to group its heroines together, promoting them not as the lacy ladies of autonomous fiefdoms but as the (mostly) equal rulers of an oligarchy. In three years, princess sales rocketed from $300 million to $1.3 billion. This year, the Disney Princess brand is expected to bring in $2 billion.
My household accounts for approximately half of those sales.
Or at least it seems like it.
Which is why, in seeking to examine this puff-sleeved phenomenon, I skipped the sociologists and gender-studies experts and went straight to the ultimate, authoritative source: My 4-year-old daughter.
She is the target audience. And she adores the Disney Princesses.
For my girl, a bejeweled Cinderella crown is mandatory headgear for breakfast, Snow White high heels the preferred footwear for evening, a golden "Three Princesses" nightie the only sensible choice for bed. As she trots out the door to school, her Disney Princess lunch box in one hand and her Disney Princess book bag in the other, I stop her and ask: Why?
"Because," she says, drawing out the word to indicate, surely not for the last time, that she thinks her dad is loopy, "they make me happy!"
Obsession? No. Her interest would have to diminish to be mere obsession. This is more like a way of life. Recently my girl sat on our couch, dressed in her Snow White costume, holding her Snow White doll, and watching her Snow White video.
"My eyes are blue," she says.
"No, sweetheart," I answer. "Your eyes are a beautiful dark brown, almost black."
"No, my eyes are blue!" she insists. "My fairy godmother turned them blue!"
I don't argue. But let me tell you a secret:
My kid is Chinese. Her eyes weren't blue when she got here, they ain't blue now, and they ain't going to be blue anytime soon.
I don't mind the princesses. Though I do wish, if they were as tangible and kind-hearted as my daughter believes, that they would spend less time singing and more time picking up. Mostly I'm puzzled how they could so quickly displace old friends like Barney the dinosaur and Jay Jay the Jet Plane.
I offer my daughter an after-school snack of an apple.
"Is it poison?" she asks hopefully.
It's not just my girl who has fallen under the princesses' spell. Leading child-development authorities - other parents I know - say the same thing is happening in their homes.
How does it start? It begins with a sharp pain in the foot.
You're walking through your house, barefoot, at night, when you step on something hard and pointed. A Belle hairbrush. The next thing you know, you catch yourself humming, "Once Upon a Dream." Canceling the New Yorker and subscribing to Disney's Princess seems a logical trade.
Disney says its Princess line encompasses 25,000 items. About 24,000 of them are strewn across my sunroom rug.
By packaging the princesses, Disney gained the flexibility to market a single powerful brand through different products at different stores, and to reinforce that presence in its own television shows, radio broadcasts and theme parks. At Home Depot, you can now buy Disney Princess paint - surprise! it's pink - and at Wal-Mart your kid can cruise away in a battery-powered Disney Princess SUV. In a year, the princesses' market share of role-playing toys has jumped from 9 percent to 16 percent.
Disney says the princesses are popular because their stories encourage girls to dream, because they offer empowering themes of honor, friendship and love. "It really appeals to a fundamental desire that most little girls have, to make believe, and believe there's a Prince Charming in their life," spokesman Gary Foster says.
That's the company's line - and they're sticking to it.
A cynic - not me, of course - might suggest that the princesses are a sad group of anorexic blondes and brunettes, eagerly assuming a life of indentured labor in the service of abusive step-parents. Their sole desire is that a handsome young man will appear and transform their dreary existence by dint of his vast riches, good manners, and impeccable family background.
Aside from wishing and washing and waiting, the princesses' lives seem to consist of hanging out in desolate woodlands, talking to birds and mice. None of them has pursued an education, though at least Belle, stuck in that oppressive French village, has read a few books.
That characterization bothers my daughter and her friends not a whit. Their playtime debates assume that becoming a princess is a worthy goal, the only contention being who gets to wear which gown.
I decided that if I must live in Disney land, I would at least nudge my child toward more progressive role models. Characters such as Mulan and Pocahontas, strong, confident women who stand up for themselves. Even Princess Jasmine would be an improvement. (Though truth be told, years of soft palace living in Agrabah have made her just a little bit rhymes-with-witchy).
But in the end, single-handedly saving China from bloodthirsty Huns can't compete with an evening of dancing at the royal ball.
And that's fine. Because I know that eventually even princesses grow up, and little girls too, that my daughter's interest in crowns and castles will cede to big-girl worries about cars and college.
The other night, as I tucked my girl into bed, snug against her princess pillow, she looked up at me and smiled, then raised her tiny hand and placed it softly against my cheek.
"Noble steed," she said.
Perhaps someday I'll rate a speaking part.
we own every princess in different sizes (including Minnie dressed up as a princess), all the movies and a bunch of costumes . She does change her mind on which is her "favorite" quiet a lot, lately its Cinderella since we will be having dinner in the Castle and also the Cinderella dinner at GF.
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