Princesses … do we have too many of them?

Georgia is very into being a princess.

She does switch between being Rapunzel, a fairy princess and a bit of fairy and a bit of a princess – she is constantly telling me her powers are attributed to her hair (I think a Samson story combined with a fairy princess complex).

I do not know a great deal about princesses.  When I read through the story books lying around, princesses do appear to be very attractive young girls, who seem to suffer some hardship or another, usually which involves a wicked stepmother.

The only thing that will save them is a prince who will sweep them off and marry them.

Based on the fairy tales – a princess needs to be super attractive, have lush hair, an attractive smile, and pretty much no future aspirations of any kind.

The fact that a prince wondering through the woods takes a fancy to them, and offers to marry them on the spot, seems to be the highest point of achievement in their lives.  It unfortunately also counters our constant admonishings of STRANGER-DANGER!!

I am always been a bit wary of these handsome titled men who traipse through the woods alone.  I think we would call them “displaced persons” or homeless.

Why is a prince alone in the woods?  Where is his retinue of staff?

If you saw a dead girl surrounded by 7 small people/dwarfs – would you reason that now is a good time to hop off your horse and wander over there to see if you can have a quick snog?  Really, does that sound like a great idea?

Did he think his kiss would wake the dead?  Let’s agree he has rather an inflated god complex going on, and maybe a touch of the strange, either way not attributes you want in someone you are marrying.

Cinderalla’s beau has always concerned me the most.  She gets herself all dolled up, for the ball, spends the night dancing with him, midnight strikes, she dashes, she leaves her shoe, and he finds her shoe.

Prince No-Recall-of-Facial-Features-but-clearly-with-a-foot-fetish then traipses all over his kingdom with a shoe for the ladies to try on.  You would think he would be able to recognise his great love – but nope shoe trying it is.

If I had danced with the prince and dropped my size six and  a half shoe, he would have been able to find 4 girls in my street alone whose foot would fit my shoe.

Even when he is in the house where Cinderalla lives, and she enters the room, he still does not recognise her face, her manner, her voice. Only when her foot fits the shoe does he have a eureka moment of recognition.  Weird much?

Rapunzel’s beau does not think that after climbing HER HAIR up a tower.  He does not think, well this must cause her a great deal of discomfort, next time let me bring some crampons and my own rope.  Or better yet, let me use my princely powers to rescue her.

Nope he just goes on climbing up the poor girls hair until Rapunzel’s step mother throws him into some thorns.

There is a great deal of emphasis on referring to little girls as “my princess” and little girls being obsesses with princesses – but what are these images and stories teaching our girls in terms of what they should aspire to?

Other than a tiara, and a wand and flouncing around in really pretty pink outfits, what are we telling them?

What is the point of being a princess, other than being pretty and waiting on your prince to come along and rescue them?

History has shown that princesses’ role was to marry well – her father who would use her in arranged marriages for his kingdom’s political gain.  And once that was done, her role was to produce an heir or die trying.  Princesses though living lavish lives, were going it in gilded prisons, so why do we continue to hold this ideal out to our daughters and encourage them to be “princesses?”

I would feel so much if my girls were playing lawyer-lawyer, doctor-doctor or actuary-actuary.

I wish my girls would don capes and fly around the house telling me they are super hero’s, instead of princesses having yet another stupid tea party.

Does anyone have any idea of good “character” role models for girls right now hopefully in a book and a movie?

I feel a bit overwhelmed with the Hello Kitty, Rapunzel, Princess Aurora and others of her ilk.

Viva La V.ulv.a.

Okay, so last night I sat and watched a DVD called Viva La V.ulv.a. 

I really do not make this stuff up –  sometimes I wish I did, but not this time.

It is a DVD made by a sex educator Betty Dodson.   I had never heard of her until last week, so it was all big news to me. 

When you look at Betty Dodson, it is a bit like taking couple and sex advise from Betty White from the Golden Girls – actually it is exactly like that.  She is sweet, rather maternal and touching on eighty-two at this point and still continues to educate women about women.

To quote – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Betty_Dodson

Betty Dodson, Ph.D. (born August 24, 1929) is an American sex educator, author, and artist. Dodson held the first one-woman show of erotic art at the Wickersham Gallery in New York City in 1968. She left the art world to teach sex to women. She is widely known as a pioneer in women’s, and to a somewhat lesser extent men’s, sexual liberation, having sold more than 1 million copies of her first book, Sex for One.  Much of her fame has come from her work not only advocating ma.stur.ba.tion, but conducting workshops for more than 30 years in which groups of about 10 or more women (and at least once a group of men) would talk, explore their own bodies, and mas.tu.rba.te together. “

This particular DVD was just that – 10 women who sit around and discuss their v.ulv.as.    No really that is what it is.  It is not p.orn movie, though you would be totally correct in assuming it might appear that way.  It is more of looking at your “nether regions” in a biology way, with the aid of your rather eccentric but rather liberal grandmother.

When I thought that I couldn’t cringe anymore – and I cringed plenty – they all sat around with very large mirrors and bright lights, and spent some time examining their vu.lva.s. 

All in the same room.  At the same time.  And no one was giggling hysterically.  And no one was drinking wine!

So each woman gets the mirror and the light and sits splayed, while everyone examines her v.ulv.a, at the same time as Betty and the other 9 woman have a look see.  It’s a bit of a show and tell really.

So woman A is pulling herself open and everyone is having a look, and this is while Betty is using an ear bud (and no gloves I noticed) to point and probe various areas and everyone is going “oooohhhh” and “aaahhhhh” and saying words like “it is so pretty” and “wow that is cute…” and various other things I can’t actually put here.

I have realized a few things in the last two weeks, and that is that my “sexual script” appears to have been written by Swedish Religious Missionaries circa 1821!  I cannot believe how cloistered and how absolutely narrow my map of the world is – this DVD freaked me out – totally!

And then I got freaked out that I was freaked out by.

I really did not want to watch it, but felt I should – actually I “felt I had to” – I am doing a 7 week workshop and body awareness is one of the issues that is covered. 

When this DVD was handed out I started to get that vague nauseous feeling of dread and horror.

But I watched it.

Many things happened for me while watching this video.

First I had to take my hands away from my face, because that is how I was hiding my eyes, so I actually would not have to see what was happening on the screen.

Then I also got to look at 10 woman’s v.ulv.as in a non-playboy or hustler sort of way. 

It was not a case of them being explicit so that some horny hairy and overweight 55-year-old man could have a look see and a drool – but rather than these women as individuals and as a group could look at their v.ulv.as, and maybe have some understanding and appreciation of how they work – often for the first time. 

They were women all looking at a part of their own body they probably had not looked at before.   Most of them hadn’t – and my guess is that most of the women reading this blog haven’t either.

It was the equivalent of sitting around a table and everyone examining each other’s hands and commenting on nails and the lines, without it being this huge “embarrassing” thing or people squealing.

I think the DVD went on for about 30 minutes. 

The beginning was a bit excruciating for me. I think at the end of the day, when all is said and done, I am actually a bit of a prude.  Betty also used the c-word, but not in a cringe sort of way – though I did cringe, I might have even recoiled.  She uses it freely and in an affectionate way – which is not normally how one would think the c-word would be used.  See I can’t even use the c-word here …….

The realization I was that for one, I have never looked at myself. (I am not quite rushing out to buy a miror or a desk lamp, so let’s all calm ourselves down)

My wax lady and my OGBYN have had more of a look at me than me.  I prefer to avert my eyes in a rather Victorian-lady sort of way.  And that appears is the norm, among woman/girls I have asked.

And why?

Because I have always been taught – I have no idea by whom – that girly bits must always be kept covered.  

Good girls do not look at themselves, let alone admit to touching themselves. 

There is this message that “down there” is dirty and unsanitary and well pretty much off-limits.  And that in turn is what we teach our daughters.

Ever smacked your child’s hand away when she puts her hand on her v.ulv.a? I have!

Then whilst I sat and cringed – I was screwing up my face in horror – watching this DVD, I realized that I had done myself an injustice, and if I was not careful I would be doing the same thing to my daughters.

To raise my daughters and give them the stereotype behavior that I have lived with and force them to think of a part of their body as “dirty” or “shameful” is really a reflection on what I am teaching them, and really what does that do for them moving forward.

Make them hate a part of their body, make them ashamed?

Most women and men – do not understand how women work.  How our mechanics are designed – good grief I recall sitting in my OGBYN’s office while he did a drawing for me – and it was my third child.  Yes I understand the rudimentary mechanics, but I really do not know how I work. 

And for some reason I think that is okay.  However with my recent DVD purchase I am wondering, is it okay?

Listen I have not quite got my head around this – and to be honest I feel a bit punch drunk today after watching the DVD.

I do feel however that there has been some sort of switch.   

Not a direct “on/off” switch that went off in my brain last night, but definitely an awareness that maybe I have got this all terribly wrong, and maybe Golden Girl Betty Dobson is on to something here (please bear in mind this DVD is easily 20 years old, so not only is she on to something, but good grief  I have severely been left behind on this one).

I might not be quite ready to burst into song about Viva La V.ulv.a, but maybe my brain has started to think just a little differently ….. just maybe….. just a little.