While surfing on the internet the other day, I came across this and this. They’re shirts for little girls which proudly state: “President, Not Princess” and “Doctor, Not Diva.”

Let me start off by saying a loud, resounding, “YES!”

What a brilliant shirt. What a brilliant message.

I may have a son, but I have what feels like 6,789 nieces. Finding gifts for them for Christmas, birthdays or whatever presents somewhat of a challenge since I refuse to purchase anything with the words “Diva,” “Princess,” “Lil’ Darling,” or “Drama Queen.” Yesterday I saw a pair of sweatpants which said “Bootylicious” across the butt. They were size 18 months. I also refuse to buy anything even remotely related to those Bratz dolls which resemble child prositutes.

Now, I’m not someone who generally reads too much into things. I’m pretty selective about the battles I choose and arguing with people about the fashion choices for gradeschoolers isn’t something I generally engage. I mean, I could go on and on about how difficult it is to find a basic pair of jeans for a little girl that don’t have beads, sequins or ribbons attached to them. Or, I could ramble on about the messages of Disney movies (i.e. Sleeping Beauty snoozing away until the perfect man rescues her and the Little Mermaid giving up her voice to have a chance to meet some good-looking dude) and I could prognosticate about the horrors of Barbies, but truth be told, I wouldn’t forbid my daughter to play with or watch any of those things. I think, tempered with the wisdom of an informed parent, Cinderella and her posse and even evil Barbie, are probably OK.

The hardest issue for me to swallow is the almost complete lack of an opposing viewpoint. Where are the cartoons where the princess rebuffs the handsome prince and opens her own 401K and starts a small business? Or, the Barney songs about, “First you get a college degree/Then you work for awhile/Only then, my friend, can you even think about getting married/”

Someday, if I have a daughter, you can bet your ass I’ll be dressing her in those shirts. If I don’t have one, I’ll at least be drilling into my son’s head that he should want to end up with a “Doctor” rather than a “Diva.”

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