Whenever I’m asked my favorite feminist Disney character, I don’t waver. “Why, it’s Cruella de Vil,” I reply without hesitation. I was 8 years old when “101 Dalmatians” was released. I felt relief when I saw her on the screen. Cinderella made me anxious. I couldn’t see an ounce of myself in her. Why would she not fight back? Why was she so nice to such awful people? And Bambi? Let’s not even go there. Snow White? How come she had to do all the work for so many of them? And her hair? It wasn’t like mine — perfectly coiffed even after she had been struggling in the woods all that time? Little Red Riding Hood? Was she stupid? Those female characters didn’t reflect my sense of self at all, and if anything, they made me doubt myself.
Just what I needed to read this morning. And a great reminder why I purchased those engraved notes that state “I regret my behavior last evening”.
Great essay, Christine!
Sometimes you just make my morning.