Whilst out shopping for my advent calendar this year, I realised I was a little late- it already being the 1st of december – and as such i ended up with the only one left crammed on the bottom a Tesco shelf. It was a Disney princess one, all pink and pretty featuring some of Disney’s most famous leading ladies. And it got me thinking, about how Disney princesses have always been a part of my life in some way and how much, in my current penniless graduate life, I now envy them… Now I know all the feminists out there will be crying out in shock by that statement, but please just hear me out!
During my childhood I had the typical girly reaction to Disney’s impossibly beautiful heroines, I want to be one when I grow up. I wanted impossibly shiny hair and beautiful dresses that never got dirty no matter how many woods and dungeons and towers they were dragged through. I would tie my dressing gown belt in my hair as a ribbon and pretend my two younger brothers were actually 7 rather weird middle-aged dwarves; or put my mum’s necklace on my head as a tiara and dance around in her old wedding dress with my teddy bear pretending he was really the perfectly manicured Beast. And even though I knew that they weren’t real, and that I would never really have lots of beautiful little squirrels, birds and bunny rabbits follow me through my daily life, I still wanted to be them and to have my own life turn out so sparkly and perfect.
When I was at university I felt like my life was sorted, just not in the typical Disney fashion. I was doing a course I loved, living with some amazing people and generally having the time of my life. And of course in my mind when I finished uni it would all seamlessly melt into a new pattern where I simply went to work in my dream job instead of uni. And nothing would ruin that plan. So I felt quite smug, loving my life, having fond memories of my naive childhood and calmly looking forward to my triumphant adulthood. Who needed a pesky prince to come along and “rescue” me? I was finally living my life and getting things wrong on my own and even fixing them on my own, the last thing I wanted was hair that looks like it takes way too much effort to deal with when all I want to do is go and drink too much OR a prince to whisk me away to some big pretty house and make me his wife. I was living my life and loving it.
Needless to say that unlike a Disney film, my life has yet to end with a happily ever after. I neither spend my days with the most sparkly necklace balanced on my head dancing to our record player (yes RECORD player) nor do I spend them sat in a lecture hall counting down the minutes until pub-time. Instead I am sat at home after the daily grind looking at those smug heroines smile out at me from the only advent calendar left on the shelf.
And yet, I have to ask myself why are they smug? Or I suppose why do I think they are?
Well! To be honest I find it ridiculously difficult not to envy a desperately beautiful woman, with an impossibly small waist, shiny hair, great outfits, amazing shoes and a life in which all their dreams have come true. Yes it may have been because their princes have finally arrived and married them and taken them to their beautiful palaces. But you know what they may have used their power as Queens and whatnot to open Universities, travel the world, save the sharks, or even open a kick ass cupcake shop. Who knows? All I know is that after many years I have finally reached a point in my life where I am wishing life was just as simple and as beautiful as a Disney film.