They Made Her Wear Pants!!!

The Struggle of Girliness in Gaming

When Illumination studios’ Super Mario Brothers adaptation was first announced, I recall having a discussion with a friend over concerns whether Princess Peach would be depicted as the caring and polite, yet short-tempered and adventurous princess we’d come to see her as, or if she would simply don the “stoic, sarcastic action girl” personality that seems so common in film these days. In a sentiment that seemed to sum up all the above, she finished the discussion with the words “I just hope they don’t make her wear pants.”

The film came and went and, for the most part, our fears were assuaged. And it wasn’t until several months later that I watched the trailer for the upcoming (as of this writing) Princess Peach: Showtime!. Again, the reveal actually excited me quite a bit, and I am eager to pick up the game the moment it is released. But I couldn’t help but notice something. With Showtime’s central gameplay mechanic revolving around different “costumes” which grant unique abilities, we have seen several takes on “Cowboy Peach”, “Detective Peach”, “Kung Fu Peach” etc. I personally found these character designs both fun and cute, but I couldn’t help but let out a conflicted chuckle as I noted something: in every single one of these costumes, they finally did it. They made her wear pants.

Now, in the interest of beating any potential “woman yells at cloud” allegations, I feel like it is important for me to establish what we in the writing field (mostly Sophomore year English teachers) refer to as “Ethos”. I have existed within the criteria of “gamer” since roughly the tender age of three years old. Alongside a deluge of kid-friendly “edutainment”, some of my earliest experiences include the Mac ports of the original Prince of Persia and Wolfenstein 3D. At age five I received my first Playstation, and from there have dabbled in just about every game and console to come out before or since, from deathmatch FPS’ to quirky rhythm games etc. And, as I began to explore the murky definitions of my own womanhood, it was so many of the women in these games, from Lara Croft herself to less “universally known” characters like Tenchu’s Ayame or Agent Tanya in the Red Alert series, to say nothing of the myriad female custom characters and Sims who helped me sort out my personal sense of style. In short, my words are neither those of a sanctimonious outsider writing puff pieces to dunk on “the gamers”, nor are they the words of a jaded “old head”, who responds to any mention of inclusivity as an attack on the sanctity of their hobby.

That out of the way, I can begin to unpack my feelings a bit more. Anyone merely offended by the thought of a female character in trousers has clearly missed the proverbial boat by a few centuries, and I certainly don’t believe there is any nefarious plot to strip our beloved princess of her femininity or anything like that. However I can’t help but feel that this series of  subtle artistic decisions portrays what I think is a common social sentiment: “Girls can do anything. But they shouldn’t be too girly when they do it.” 

I recall feeling similarly when Crash Bandicoot 4 first launched. Once again, Crash 4 is an amazing game full of absolutely great character designs, including the game’s reintroduction of the character Tawna Bandicoot, (Technically an alternate universe double, but from a thematic standpoint this difference is really just a technicality.) A far cry from the large-chested damsel in distress not seen since the first entry, this version of the character sports a blue-streaked mohawk, leather jacket, and a much more spunky, sarcastic demeanor. Once again I can’t argue that the original game’s take on the character was much more than a blank slate meant to complete the old cliche of “boy saves girl” and appeal to the then common assumption that most gamers were young boys. And this reinterpretation injects a lot of much-needed personality into the character. But as this redesign became the standard depiction moving forward, clearly taking inspiration from the comic book multiverse reinterpretation of Spider-Man’s Gwen Stacy from a popular high school beauty queen into an undercut-bearing punk rocker as she gained powers of her own, I couldn’t help but ask “Do girls need to be tomboys to save the world?”

I think the rationale behind these designs, while consciously well-intentioned, setting out to give femme-aligned gamers characters who are strong and capable, still reveals an unconscious societal bias: that of the “Cool Girl”. It’s a documented thing that the more overtly hyper feminine are often considered far *less* appealing by male audiences than those who cast off the traditional trappings of femininity in the name of an “edgy” or alternative look, idealizing such women as more relatable and, therefore desirable than the presumably “stuck up” or “vain” women in feminine makeup and fashionable clothes.

It recalls the roots of Japan’s Kawaii culture in the 70’s & 80’s, when young women adopted rounded, stylized handwriting and frilly pink outfits more in line with a pre-teen little girl’s idea of “cute & pretty” than the social expectation of a mature young woman ready to marry or enter the workforce. And so this brand of extreme “girliness” became a form of self expression just as potent as any girl who casts *off* the equally oppressive notions that beauty and makeup are somehow mandatory for their half of the human population. Point being, male audiences don’t tend to vibe with “girly girls”, and to omit such gender expression winds up being just as male-focused as the most exploitative of “eye candy” characters.  

I do also think, though, that another rationale for the more “pantsy” depiction of video game heroines is much more utilitarian. Most video games are about action and adventure, things handled by action-ready adventurers, not by demure, prissy princesses. But I think the history of gaming has already produced multiple examples to the contrary. Immediately, I am reminded of Princess Rosella, protagonist of 1988’s King’s Quest IV and 1994’s King’s Quest VII who, despite being every bit the dainty, classical princess of pop culture is also every bit as brave, resourceful, and capable as her male relatives upon whom the prior entries were based.

I could also present Virginia Maxwell, the gunslinging protagonist of 2002’s Wild Arms 3. Virginia’s design, a purple-pink dress with red bow and frilly petticoat, is perhaps the most feminine and least sexual a female protagonist has ever looked, and this extends to her character, who faces fears of vulnerability and inexperience to become a strong and daring gunslinger, leading her own gang through the old-west inspired wastelands of the game’s setting.

I could list so many examples going back and forth of feminine characters, less feminine characters, those in between, etc. And again I want to stress that there is absolutely no “one” way to be a woman, and it’s actually wonderful that we are seeing so many characters who *don’t* simply adhere to one “classical” form of expression. And I certainly don’t write this as an alarmist prophecy on the “death of femininity” or anything like that. But what I do wish to express is that when we trade one form of expression for another, or when we implicitly write off one expression as “less capable”, we ultimately put ourselves right back where we started in terms of progress. So by all means, let Peach wear pants. Let her be a cowboy, a fencer, or anything else she wants to be. But just remember to let her be a princess too, okay?