Latest news with #chivalry
The Guardian
04-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Is ‘princess treatment' a harmless trend – or yet more fuel for misogyny?
Do you wish you were a princess? Do you crave being cosseted and showered with gifts, having every door opened and every chair pulled out? Perhaps you'd rather not pay for your clothes; maybe you're sick of deciding what to eat and where. Courtney Palmer can help. The self-proclaimed housewife princess has a series of TikTok videos on 'princess treatment' and how to get it. It's a matter of accepting compliments graciously, dressing the part, being unapologetically good to yourself (disappointingly, this seems to mean exercising and drinking water) but mostly ministering to your partner, who is treated as a weirdly needy and highly suggestible man-baby. Would-be princesses should create a calm, frictionless domestic paradise for their provider prince, 'speaking in a feminine way – we're not screaming, yelling; we're not cursing', thanking him for picking up his dirty underwear. Princess treatment is the reward and it comes in the form of diamond earrings, Chanel flats, flowers and old-school chivalry. It's emetic and, in a recent TikTok that catapulted Palmer into a more critical spotlight, disturbing. Explaining what princess treatment looks like at a restaurant, Palmer said: 'I do not interact with the waitress; I do not open any doors and I do not order my own food … You do not need to talk unless you are spoken to … You're not going to be laughing loudly, speaking loudly, demanding the attention of the restaurant.' Yikes. Palmer called it 'letting your husband lead and be masculine' and 'a fun princess treatment thing'. Commenters found it cult-like, concerning and bizarre. 'As a former waitress, I would have slipped you a note and asked if you're OK or if I should call the police,' one said. I do wonder how real any of this is. Does 'princess treatment' exist beyond its social-media shop window? Tradwives aren't tradwives, after all – they are content creators, and winding people up with jaw-droppingly regressive gender messaging generates revenue: outrage drives eyeballs and eyeballs mean dollars. Nara Smith, famed for wearing OTT dresses while making her own bubblegum and breakfast cereal, was recently reported by Cosmopolitan to be earning an estimated $200,000 a month on TikTok. Most relationships are nothing like what Palmer presents, or like other pearly-toothed, wholesome TikTok couples who jokily quiz each other on what constitutes princess treatment or a relationship 'bare minimum'. My own husband occasionally gives me 'goose treatment' – a careful wide berth – but our marriage is not a transactional game. Couples of all varieties mostly muddle through, trying to be decent to each other. But Palmer et al are servicing a real aspiration, or at least a relatable fantasy. I get it, kind of – it would be nice if every day were like my birthday (but not nice enough to spend my life cooking and cleaning while wearing broderie anglaise to achieve it). And I suppose that in a time of global turmoil, having a 'provider' can feel like security. But it's the opposite: relinquishing autonomy – bodily, financial, intellectual – leaves women dangerously vulnerable. And this stuff isn't anodyne: it confirms the manosphere's misogynistic assumptions about 'alphas' and 'high-value females', and empowers rollers-back of reproductive rights, reinforcing the idea that it's OK to take decisions on women's behalf (they don't even want to order a side of fries for themselves!). The 'princess' label is pretty accurate. Historically, princesses provided beauty and babies, and were largely powerless; royal marriages were transactional arrangements. And as Hilary Mantel was unfairly criticised for writing about the then-Duchess of Cambridge, princess life is still stultifying, mostly about projecting irreproachable, mute perfection. There's definitely no 'cursing'. Maybe some women enjoy imagining a life of calm, cared-for passivity – but could content at least get more creative? How about 'goddess treatment': demand offerings and sacrifices, keep people on their toes with the prospect of being turned into something nasty? If that's not passive enough, how about 'pet treatment'? Imagine being treated like a house cat: loved unconditionally and lavished with gifts for nothing more than napping, shedding hair, eating, demanding strokes and occasionally lashing out for no reason. If a TikToker could tell me how to get 'cat treatment', I'd definitely like and follow. Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
The Guardian
04-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Is ‘princess treatment' a harmless trend – or yet more fuel for misogyny?
Do you wish you were a princess? Do you crave being cosseted and showered with gifts, having every door opened and every chair pulled out? Perhaps you'd rather not pay for your clothes; maybe you're sick of deciding what to eat and where. Courtney Palmer can help. The self-proclaimed housewife princess has a series of TikTok videos on 'princess treatment' and how to get it. It's a matter of accepting compliments graciously, dressing the part, being unapologetically good to yourself (disappointingly, this seems to mean exercising and drinking water) but mostly ministering to your partner, who is treated as a weirdly needy and highly suggestible man-baby. Would-be princesses should create a calm, frictionless domestic paradise for their provider prince, 'speaking in a feminine way – we're not screaming, yelling; we're not cursing', thanking him for picking up his dirty underwear. Princess treatment is the reward and it comes in the form of diamond earrings, Chanel flats, flowers and old-school chivalry. It's emetic and, in a recent TikTok that catapulted Palmer into a more critical spotlight, disturbing. Explaining what princess treatment looks like at a restaurant, Palmer said: 'I do not interact with the waitress; I do not open any doors and I do not order my own food … You do not need to talk unless you are spoken to … You're not going to be laughing loudly, speaking loudly, demanding the attention of the restaurant.' Yikes. Palmer called it 'letting your husband lead and be masculine' and 'a fun princess treatment thing'. Commenters found it cult-like, concerning and bizarre. 'As a former waitress, I would have slipped you a note and asked if you're OK or if I should call the police,' one said. I do wonder how real any of this is. Does 'princess treatment' exist beyond its social-media shop window? Tradwives aren't tradwives, after all – they are content creators, and winding people up with jaw-droppingly regressive gender messaging generates revenue: outrage drives eyeballs and eyeballs mean dollars. Nara Smith, famed for wearing OTT dresses while making her own bubblegum and breakfast cereal, was recently reported by Cosmopolitan to be earning an estimated $200,000 a month on TikTok. Most relationships are nothing like what Palmer presents, or like other pearly-toothed, wholesome TikTok couples who jokily quiz each other on what constitutes princess treatment or a relationship 'bare minimum'. My own husband occasionally gives me 'goose treatment' – a careful wide berth – but our marriage is not a transactional game. Couples of all varieties mostly muddle through, trying to be decent to each other. But Palmer et al are servicing a real aspiration, or at least a relatable fantasy. I get it, kind of – it would be nice if every day were like my birthday (but not nice enough to spend my life cooking and cleaning while wearing broderie anglaise to achieve it). And I suppose that in a time of global turmoil, having a 'provider' can feel like security. But it's the opposite: relinquishing autonomy – bodily, financial, intellectual – leaves women dangerously vulnerable. And this stuff isn't anodyne: it confirms the manosphere's misogynistic assumptions about 'alphas' and 'high-value females', and empowers rollers-back of reproductive rights, reinforcing the idea that it's OK to take decisions on women's behalf (they don't even want to order a side of fries for themselves!). The 'princess' label is pretty accurate. Historically, princesses provided beauty and babies, and were largely powerless; royal marriages were transactional arrangements. And as Hilary Mantel was unfairly criticised for writing about the then-Duchess of Cambridge, princess life is still stultifying, mostly about projecting irreproachable, mute perfection. There's definitely no 'cursing'. Maybe some women enjoy imagining a life of calm, cared-for passivity – but could content at least get more creative? How about 'goddess treatment': demand offerings and sacrifices, keep people on their toes with the prospect of being turned into something nasty? If that's not passive enough, how about 'pet treatment'? Imagine being treated like a house cat: loved unconditionally and lavished with gifts for nothing more than napping, shedding hair, eating, demanding strokes and occasionally lashing out for no reason. If a TikToker could tell me how to get 'cat treatment', I'd definitely like and follow. Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist
News.com.au
24-06-2025
- General
- News.com.au
‘Chivalry is dead': What men just aren't doing anymore
Is Chivalry dead? After a grown man practically trampled me to get on the bus recently, I'd be inclined to say yes. He was in a suit and fun socks (boring finance bros tend to think quirky socks make them look fun), and he was on the verge of elbowing me to get a seat. I was unnerved by his rugby scrum approach to public transport, it was a bit much for 8am and buses come every 10 minutes – but I wasn't shocked It wasn't very chivalrous, but is that even a thing anymore? Is men letting women go first on public transport a dead concept? Did it die when we started advocating for fair pay and the rights to our bodies? Is the price of equality that men just aren't that polite anymore? I want equal pay and men to follow the Titanic rule of women and children first. Not that you're asking for a history lesson, but to catch you up, the word chivalry originated in the Middle Ages, and primarily referred to the code of conduct for knights. In modern times, it refers to being polite and showing kind, respectful behaviour, usually towards women. Such as holding the door open, allowing women to enter rooms first, and men offering to give up their seats on public transport. Does that still exist in 2025 though? Or is it a social normal we've outgrown? When hit Sydney's streets to get answers, the response was fairly divided by gender. In general, men claimed chivalry still exists, and most women admitted they didn't see enough of it anymore - if at all. 'I definitely think chivalry is dead. I think the attitude of men in general just isn't great,' one woman proclaimed. 'I think so yeah. I don't see it as often as I should,' another woman echoed. One young woman in a funky hat said she didn't think it was dead but conceded it is definitely 'changing'. What does chivalry look like to her in 2025? Well, less holding open on doors, and more making someone a Spotify playlist. Men, on the other hand, think chivalry is still a thing. 'I think it is still there and I think it should still exist,' one young man argued, but then admitted that it had morphed. 'Compared to how our parents saw it, it is not where it used to be,' he added. Meanwhile, two young men responded with a firm and concise 'no' when asked if they thought chivalry was dead. There were also quite a few men that declined to be filmed that admitted they thought chivalry was alive and well, so there's clearly a disconnect between men and women on the subject. Men think they are being chivalrous, but women say they just aren't seeing it in their daily lives or, if they are witnessing it, they're certainly not seeing enough of it. It fascinates me that we've achieved men not opening doors for women far faster than we've achieved equal pay. In Australia, there's still a stark 12.1 per cent gender pay gap. The conversation about chivalry is clearly part of the cultural Zeitgeist at the moment. A woman in the UK posted a video of herself standing on the train and then filmed a bunch of men sitting while she stood and it amassed millions of views. She set the clip to Lorde's song 'Man of the Year', which is being used on TikTok at the moment to call out poor behaviour from men. People online were divided over the clip. Many saw nothing wrong with men not standing up for women, suggesting that chivalry isn't a thing anymore. 'I'm confused- are you pregnant? Disabled? Injured? If you aren't, and they got there first, are total strangers, they don't owe you a seat,' one person said. 'What's the issue here?' another asked. 'Men don't owe women anything,' someone else argued. However, there were others who claimed the video was proof that 'chivalry is dead'. 'And they push you out of the way to get the seats too,' another said. One woman claimed: 'When I was pregnant the same thing happened. Only old ladies would offer to give up the seat.' The chivalry debate certainly isn't settled, and at this point, I'd just settle for a grown man not elbowing me to get a better seat on the bus.
