And no one lived happily ever after

When you're a little girl, there are somewhat limited options for your future. If, like me, you grew up a slave to the TV, begging for a later bed time when it glowed with movies like Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Tangled, Anastasia... breathlessly watching beautiful girls living exciting lives fraught with danger, and villains and smiling princes with perfectly coiffed hair, then you're probably aware that women in movies made for children fall into one of two categories.

They are either the Damsel in Distress - pretty girls in sparkly dresses with long hair waiting adorably and patiently to be saved, like Ariel the Little Mermaid, Rapunzel or Snow White; or the Villain from Hell - ugly, evil, monstrous women with names like Maleficent and Ursula.

You're either a beautiful maiden, ripe for the rescue, or a wretched hag, destined for doom. Now, go on - pick one.

Little girls watch these movies, see the pretty stars, want to be like these frothy females and are unfortunately sidelined as, unlike the pixel-perfect princesses, they have pesky things like hips. And, you know, pores.

But that's nothing new - modern-day media breeding insecurities in younger and younger girls' minds. Anorexia, bulimia and self-loathing - we know all about the effects unrealistic beauty idols cause.

And yes, it is indeed a destructive issue. But for me, an even larger issue than their unrealistic outward appearance is the manifestation of the Madonna/Whore complex, slightly reworked as what I like to call the Cinderella/Wicked Step-Mother effect.

An integral part of a children's movie is this formula: gorgeous girl - peril at the hands of wicked witch + handsome hero = happily ever after.

Now hold on, wait. Surely there's something seriously wrong when the media are teaching that, if you want to be happy, you need to be not just physically perfect, but you simply must be prime rescuing material.

If you want a happily-ever-after, you're going to need a prince - and honey, nobody wants to rescue a smart girl.

God forbid a young girl wanting to be independent. Because didn't you know, in children's films, an independent woman is just another word for witch.

Allow me to continue the wicked step-mother analogy. To be fair, she's not the perfect role model. But compare her to the sparkly Princess Cinderella.

The step-mother was a single mother raising two biological children in addition to adopting her dead husband's child. She was ambitiously striving for the best for her daughters - to make them rulers.

Granted, she had that scary cat and a penchant for dark dresses and creepy hats. But, all in all, she was a rather independent, strong-minded woman.

Now think of Cinderella. No ambition. Wildlife creatures had to make her a dress. And then a much-harried fairy godmother had to give her a coach, horse, new dress and, of course, shoes.

Bibbity bobbity what? Cinderella did nothing to help herself, and was rescued from the step-mother by (who else) a prince. In comparison to lily-livered Cinderella, the wicked step-mother is practically a feminist icon - and yet, she's given so little respect, she doesn't even have a name. Instead, we are meant to idolise a girl who had so little self-confidence she required a mouse to make her a ball gown.

I suppose it's nothing new to society. Children's films obviously won't start spurting feminist ideals and socialist principles any time soon.

But is it too much to hope that in 2011 the heroine of the story ditches the would-be-heroic prince, tells the fairy godmother to get lost and saves herself?

If my happily-ever-after only comes with the requirements of a chauvinistic prince, a size 00 body, impeccably luscious locks and at least one solo where I sing with improbably well-tuned woodland creatures ... then I'd like a receipt, thank you very much.

Alex Cole, Year 12, St Cuthbert's College