More realistically rendering cartoon royalty
for a more inclusive representation of womanhood
in the fantasy roles we share with children
Disney princesses exist within and explore an abstract fairytale realm, one unapologetically branded and monetized to an impressionable audience. Likewise could be said of subscribers to most social media platforms, particularly those such as youth-oriented TikTok. It is therefore perhaps kismet that the discipline of fantasy animation and that recent online phenom should combine to offer a new slant on the these universally embraced characters, so often familiarized well beyond our glowing entertainment screens. Children, girls in particular, are targeted by the far-reaching Mouse House establishment as consumers of delight-inducing, adolescent-friendly merchandise ranging from dolls to coloring books to bedsheets —even those crude imitations of their iconic "looks" sold as home-play knockoffs. Needless to say, they are ubiquitous ambassadors of aspirational stories supplying pleasure and moral instruction, yes, but also untold avenues of profit. Again, the same might be written of successful app account operators, whether or not they exist at the level of professional influencer, casual participant, or (more accurately) monetized cog. Not having ever ventured down the rabbit hole of that particular virtual destination, I instead came across a recent feature posted by contributor Sara Barnes to arts & culture website MY MODERN MET, one that cleverly addressed a consistently troubling aspect of the character series: their distorted, almost always unachievable (but nonetheless aspirational) definition of physical beauty. Barnes draws —pun intended— attention to how one popular digital illustrator, Wyethe Smallish, is currently using her Apple Pencil to revise these famously "svelte physiques," lending them revised proportions. "The figures are more filled out, stronger, and overall more relatable to the everyday viewer," she appreciatively observes.
While ironic that the profiled artist's last name translates to (of all things) diminutive size, the notion of presenting achievable, quasi-realistic silhouettes for fans of the genre has found just the right voice in Smallish. She explains that in growing up with the original designs, she admired their stories but was troubled by their cookie-cutter proportions, which left her feeling excluded, if not —dare I say it— less magical. Certainly, that is no way for any person, of any age, to be made to feel —and directly antithetical to the *supposed* mission of the Walt Disney company. "I receive messages every day saying how these images have helped heal their inner child," the illustrator shares. I, for one, can testify that first beholding Ariel of The Little Mermaid at an impressionable seven years stoked an unhealthy childhood desire to fit the body mold depicted, if not also the character of a curious, thoughtful, ambitious, somewhat independent modern heroine, with or without animal anthropomorphized animal sidekick. I was later a bit too old to pay Mulan much heed or consideration, but today I applaud the notion of lending that selfless Chinese female warrior, who volunteered into combat service lest her father be enrolled, the sort of strong arms necessary for battle — or, in Cinderella's case, cleaning.
