This year, Lucy has been exploring her femininity in new ways. And much to my delight, it is more complex than one might think.
p{color:gray}. Photo: What are you looking at? Never seen a ballerina leap off brick walls in a raincoat before?
For probably two years, Lucy has been a dress-wearing girl. It probably started with our “all dresses, all the time” habit during “Potty Training 2008”:/news/2008/potty-training-weekend/. The interest in feminine frills was definitely reinforced when we introduced Lucy to the fabulous dancing in “That’s Entertainment”:http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0002OXVD2/octothorppres-20/. And once she saw her first princess movie, she was sold — pretty skirts and high-heeled sandals were the way to go.
I remember having a big cry over the Princess Syndrome this fall. Lucy, in her fashion, was wearing the same thing pretty much every day — I think it was a “long pink dress”:/news/2009/lucys-first-day-of-preschool/. She looked adorable (of course), and was starting to accessorize her look at preschool with the toy high-heeled shoes in the dress-up box. I noticed that other parents were beginning to peg Lucy as a “girly-girl” — and I also noticed that I had mixed feelings about this.
Let me hasten to say that I would definitely consider myself to be a girly-girl. Although I went through an all-black phase in high school, I rediscovered my passion for pink in adulthood and never looked back. As a mother, my clothes are simpler and more muted these days out of practicality, but I hardly ever miss the chance to doll up for date night. When else am I going to wear my sparkly pink earrings?
But as a certified post-feminist feminist, I like to infuse my feminine frills with strength and competence. I have never owned a dark suit and likely never will, but I wear my glitter with defiance, challenging anyone to view me with anything less than respect after learning that I own two pink feather boas. “Elle Woods”:http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00005O5CM/octothorppres-20/ is definitely an inspiration.
Frills and pink, however, look different on a mature 35-year-old mother than on an innocent four-year-old. There’s a certain amount of respect that comes with age and experience that you just can’t shortcut. I clearly remember a fourth-grade run-in of my own with a boy who decided that girls “weren’t allowed” to swing on a particular swing. I was so offended and indignant, I decided right then to become a lawyer, started memorizing the Bill of Rights, and periodically “held court” on the playground in order to promote justice for the fourth-grade women of Field Elementary. I knew then that there was some butt that needed to be kicked. I hadn’t read “Gloria Steinem”:http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0805042024/octothorppres-20/ yet — nor has Lucy, needless to say. But I know a day will come when she experiences the pain of sexism, and I worried that her pink dresses could typecast her in ways that she didn’t intend.
My autumn meltdown slowly simmered over several months. Lucy adopted a new daily uniform of hot-pink leotard and giant tutu. It was actually pretty interesting to watch people’s reactions whenever Lucy walked into a public area. She regularly turned heads and got lots of comments: “Aren’t you a cute little ballerina!” But she usually seems mildly annoyed at the attention. After all, what’s the big deal? Tutus are normal everyday wear in our house! And I really liked observing her freedom to experience new passions, even in the midst of tutu-madness. She doesn’t see anything incongruous in designing elaborate train layouts, driving her matchbox cars (or building her own out of Legos), or riding her scooter around the neighborhood while dressed like a ballerina.
Her comfortable yet complex femininity became perfectly clear from a picture she drew one day at preschool. All the children were to draw a response to the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Lucy’s answer: a firewoman ballerina. (See below.) Yes! Fireproof tutus will be all the rage, and the ballerina’s strength and flexibility will be a boon to the industry. I love the creativity and freedom of this brilliant vocational calling. But most of all, I love seeing how, tutu or no, Lucy does not feel limited in her options as a girl — tulle and diamonds and all.
Don’t miss the big smile on Lucy’s self-portrait as firewoman ballerina:
That’s a great career goal. Our girls have been pegged in on the same two for about 6 months: a substitute teacher for Agatha (the 6yo), while Ginger (our 4yo) insists that she’ll be a taxi driver. They’ve even worked out a system where Ginger will drive Agatha to her substitute teaching appointments.
Mike: I love the practical teamwork of those two!
I really appreciate this post, Ann, and the sharing of your thoughts on feminism and femininity sometimes being at peace with one another. Most of all, though, I am LOVING Lucy’s career goal. Maybe you can present her with this framed piece of art the day she graduates from the Fire Academy. ;)
As a girl who has always been “one of the guys”; I love your daughter’s prospects for the future! I have always just thought of myself as a person…gender was never a mold I attempted to pour myself into.
At 44 years of age, a few weeks back I found myself the brunt of a self inflicted joke that puts everything into perspective.
I was at an insured’s office going through his annual policy review. We have allot in common, and beyond business discussed travel, the merits of a quality oil filter, politics, and religion.
To set the stage, it is fair to mention that I wear a dress and very high heels to work every day. I am not big on makeup or jewelry-but I suppose I am fairly easily identifiable as a “girl”.
Returning to business, he commented that it seemed to him there were more women than men in my office. Outloud I made a mental count of staff.
“Hmm..well-I guess you are right-we are pretty heavily female. There are only three of us guys; John and Bill and I. The rest are all women.”
It took me a good minute or so to figure out why my customer was laughing so hard.
A lovely piece of writing and I thank you for sharing these important thoughts. The observations are accurate, of course, and I’ll always enjoy the view of our ballet star rushing down the slide, tutu and all. Lucy is one lucky person to have you, Ann, for her mama! I send you my love…