I heard the term “The Princess Treatment” for the first time last week, then right on cue the New York Times produced a feature called, “Can the ‘Princess Treatment’ Go Too Far? A popular video has prompted discussions about how to treat your significant other, what qualifies as “the bare minimum” and how this all relates to traditional gender roles.” It begins in part,
A husband opening the car door for his wife. A boyfriend surprising his girlfriend with flowers. Remembering her birthday. Tying her shoes. Paying for her nail appointment. Are these normal expectations or examples of the “princess treatment”? A recent slew of popular videos on social media have debated the concept, and what it means for women in relationships…Last week, Courtney Palmer, 37, reignited that discussion with a video that has garnered more than three million views. In it, she describes how princess treatment informs her relationship, including how she will sometimes defer to her husband. “If I am at a restaurant with my husband, I do not talk to the hostess, I do not open any doors and I do not order my own food,” she says in the opening of the nearly six-minute video, which has prompted a wide-ranging discussion about gender roles, restaurant etiquette and relationship expectations…
You can read it all: it’s a stupid debate. Not only with “significant others” but with all women (and, for that matter all men), how I treat them in private and social situations is based on 1) how I would like to be treated, Golden Rule 101, 2) how I have been told or discerned that they would like to be treated, and 3) what I have concluded is basic manners, and ethical societal norms that I believe should be cultivated. Why is this hard?
My late wife liked to order for herself in restaurants. Fine with me. She loved getting flowers (so do I). When she was feeling down, or when I just wanted to remind her that she was loved, I brought her flowers. I always renenbered her birhday although she insisted that she didn’t want it celebrated. Each of us knew what kind of treatment the other wanted, required, and would enjoy, so we tried to behave accordingly. It had nothing to do with princesses. It was based on respect, manners, decency, and caring. You know. Ethics.
The article reminded me of three incidents from my murky past. One I wrote about last year: a Canadian woman I had met at a funeral I arrived a week early for joined me for coffee (my treat), and then I drove her around Northern Virginia, helping her check-in to a hotel, dropping her luggage, driving her to a local area where she could have lunch, and then picking her up to take her back to her hotel. She reprimanded me for not getting out and opening my passenger door for her when I reached the hotel. Now, if I had continued to have any contact with her, I would know that the old door bit was important to her, and I would remember to behave accordingly. But she was a jerk; she never even thanked me for my unsolicited service, and can bite me.
The second was something an early date with Grace taught me: she liked having someone hold her coat for her when she was going to put it on. So I always did. No big deal.
The third incident I am rather proud of. I was riding a subway in D.C., and lots of people crowded on my car at one stop. None of the men got up for the women who were standing, and none of the younger women surrendered their seats to the older women, including several who were obese. By chance the woman standing right by me was a tall young female body builder with an impressive and even intimidating physique. I stood up and said, “May I offer you my seat, madam?” She burst into a smile, as did I, and she replied, “Why certainly, kind sir!” Then she sat down and we both laughed.
At that point, several men stood up and offered their seats to other passengers. And the body builder gave up her seat to an elderly man.
Post Script: If you can’t identify the woman in the photo above or the movie the shot is from, you really need to get out more…
Ethics Alarms 
Audrey Hepburn. Roman Holiday
The ultimate princess movie!
Now kindness, politeness, chivalry are to be debated. We certianly have entered into a dark rabbit hole.
This sounds all very blue pill to me. Chivalry worked in the the fifties and the sixties and still may work that way in the deep south. But in modern college towns being chivalrous by holding a door open for a women may not always give you a good response as you may get remarks about “patriarchy”. Other women insist on equality everywhere, however they feel and act downright entitled by expecting a maximum level chivalry at dates. In other words social expectations have become unclear and contradictory, and men give up on being chivalrous. Feminism killed it.
Chivalry is, I think, nice but must be shrouded in reason and some semblance of sanity. Golden Rule and all.
I must confess that I dated a young lass (one date and I ran for the hills!) who had this idea that she was a princess, or more particularly, a Southern belle. Aside from being a self-proclaimed Southern belle, she was a raving lunatic and I couldn’t wait for that hell you call a dream to be over.
She demanded door openings (building and car doors), lighting of cigarettes (yeah, that didn’t work – I don’t carry a lighter and the City of Houston has declared that I am not allowed anywhere near matches), and a host of other “belle” things.
I accommodated the door opening but the cigarette was a bridge too far, especially smoking in my car. I asked her if she was aware of the pristene condition of my ashtray (aside from assorted coins, a Hot Wheel, and such). She told me she didn’t care, that a Southern belle was entitled to smoke whenever and wherever she wanted. Yeah, no. Not in my car or in my house or anywhere around me. I don’t like the smell and I certainly don’t want it impregating my car or my clothes. I asked her why she wasn’t wearing a hoop skirt, a corset, pantalettes, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and gloves. She looked at me as if I came from another planet. Nope. Just an Ohio boy transferred from Cleveland to Houston. I said, “well, if we are doing the Antebellum southern thing, then I think you should dress the part.” Date abruptly ended, much to my relief.
After that disaster, I called my friend, who set the cursed thing up, and asked him if he had taken leave of his senses. He is still chuckling about it these 30 years later. Jerk.
A little while later I met the lady who would become my long-suffering wife of 28 years. We went to a party at my friend’s house – yeah, THAT friend and Antebellum Annie was there. My wife asked me about her later. I told her the story and she laughed. Yet, just last week we had a bit of a disagreement over who should take out the trash that evening. She said, “You think we Southern Belles should do that? It’s most unbecoming of a proper Southern dame to take out the trash. Whatever would the neighbors think?” I said, “but, dear, your not a Southern belle. You’re from Veracruz, Mexico. What are you talking about?” She turned on a dime and walked away in a huff. Sheesh.
jvb
PS: My ashtray is still clean as a whistle!!!
Hubby of almost 55 years always opens doors for me….and any other person approaching the same door he’s heading in or out of. It’s not patriarchy, it’s kindness. He never buys me flowers – simply because I think things that are going to die in a few days – regardless of how pretty they are – are a waste of money. We never celebrate Valentine’s Day, but daily, he will choose to help out by doing numerous kindnesses around the house — laundry, dinner, clean-up—whatever needs doing, and without being asked. It’s simple respect for our partnership. He loves grocery shopping…I don’t. I enjoy doing whatever paperwork is required for paying bills or doing taxes. He doesn’t.
We’ve never had “his and hers” chores. We’re in this together, so it’s natural for each of us to help clear the “must dos” out of the way so the “want tos” can be enjoyed more. No written agreement, no foot-stomping…..just observing and being helpful.
And, regardless of the kindness or necessity performed, we each remember to say “Thank you!”
I wasn’t looking for a prince, and he didn’t want a princess – we just wanted to share life’s ups, downs, and adventures. Plus, he still makes me double over with laughter.
“doing numerous kindnesses around the house — laundry, dinner, clean-up—whatever needs doing, and without being asked.”
Heh! Reminds me of an personal incident that happened a while back while my in-laws were in town.
My SIL asked my lovely and long-suffering wife (miffed at me for some minor [IMO] reason) where I was.
Wife: (in a p!$$y voice) “I don’t know, he went shopping for what he’s making for dinner.”
SIL: “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
Wife: (still annoyed) “Not sure, but it should be soon, he has laundry in.”
SIL: “He shops, he cooks, he does laundry…willingly…and you’re complaining?”
Sweet vindication!
PWS