Artist Clair Hummel did a series of illustrations of historically accurate versions of Disney Princesses. They’re beautiful and much more interesting than the dresses of the real Disney princesses (although a six-year old princess-freak may not concur.) What’s more interesting is how pissed off people are getting about it. Particularly Jasmin’e costume.
Aladdin, if you did not know (I didn’t), is a Chinese story that takes place in fantastical “Arabia” with Indian influences, and Jasmine’s name is actually Princess Badroulbadour. Since Jasmine’s outfit could not possibly existed, Hummel stuck with mostly Persian and Iranian influences, since it was the closest historical archetype she could find (because dragging India to this is just crazy.) It’s like a pita pocket up mixed-up Persian/Iranian/Indian/Arabic ingredients, which actually sounds delicious. But instead, people are mad:
Hey there, good lookin’. I have another fun girly Disney guessing game for you! Last one was so fun, remember that? Kathryn, by the way, won last time. So let’s see some other people step up. Or is Kathryn unbeatable?
Okay, so at first this looks really bad.
Awhile back The Frisky did a post on 100 qualities boyfriends should possess. This is their list, not mine. But if this is the blueprint for a good boyfriend, it makes me wonder, how would Aladdin size up?
Of the 100 qualities, here are the ones I’m pretty sure Aladdin would nail:
- He won’t cheat. Well. I think he’ll cheat on a lot of stuff–tests, buying bread. But not on his lady. Continue reading
I may not be perfect, but I'm The Real Tinkerbell
I’ve always been pretty sure I was destined to be a Disney character, so a few years ago I did something sort of backwards. I left the Big Apple for an audition in Orlando, Florida, to pursue a job as a Professional Disney Princess (P.D.P.)
My mom drove me to the audition, which was held in a pretty un-Disney-like warehouse off the Walt Disney World premises. I was all dolled up, wearing a poufy floral dress, high heels, and fake eyelashes. As my mom dropped me off, driving our rented red Corvette and wearing an Alice in Wonderland costume (Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party was later that evening), we watched a bunch of people wearing gym clothes filing into the building.
“Those people look like shit,” my mom said. “You’re going to kick their asses.”
In Peggy Orenstein’s Cinderella Ate My Daughter, Orenstein shares a moment she had talking with her mom friends after dropping her daughter off at preschool:
“It’s a matter of practicality,” Dana, a thirty-eight-year old stay-at-home mom said [about letting her daughter play with Disney Princess outfits in the house]. “They’re really helpful for the endless playdates. And Eleanor loves to swim so she identifies with Ariel.” I began to ask Dana how she felt about the rest of the Little Mermaid story, but she cut me off. “Oh, I don’t let the actual story in the house,” she said. “Just the costumes. Eleanor doesn’t know the stories.”
That turned out to be Mara’s policy, too. The issue to her was not princesses, it was plotlines. “Those stories are horrible,” she said, making a face. “Every single one is the same: it’s about romance, love, and being rescued by the prince. I will protect my daughter from that.”
WhooooOOop-de-whooOOooop! That’s the sound that it makes when my eyes roll.