As Maleficent hits cinemas, beauty director Joanna McGarry wonders if she's been subconsciously trying to approximate the look of her favourite Disney princess all along...

Angelina Jolie as the evil Maleficent has, by nature of Jolie’s preposterous beauty, rewritten the rules of what a Disney villain looks like. There’s no Ursula the Sea Witch purple pallor, canyon mouth or bingo wings. Nor are there the down-pointed spider brows and puckered nostrils of Snow White’s Evil Queen (clearly some villains are so evil, they don’t require actual names). And of course, Jolie is also not a cartoon, but that’s by the bye. 

One perceived truth that seems to have remained in Disney fairy-tales is the notion that the princess and protagonist should embody all that is truly beautiful. To my four year old unsullied mind, Cinderella was the absolute lynchpin of what beauty was. I have distinct memories of watching her on our old Betamax TV, struggling to understand how someone – well, an illustration of someone – could be so pretty. She was elegant, but also vulnerable and delicate, her beauty spoke of youth and innocence, rather than sexual, wanton prowess (while the Evil Queen and Maleficent look like they’d know their way around a dominatrix’s lair).

But, Cinderella was hot too, damn it! Her carefully tucked-under flaxen hair, perfectly arched, sensibly plucked brows, symmetrical rosebud mouth (in a muted, non-threatening and non-Evil Queen shade of red) and kind nature helped stack the psychological building blocks of what I considered aspirational and beautiful in my head.

I was convinced that one day, I’d grow up to look exactly like Cinderella, down to the button nose, five-inch waist and pale blue frou-frou ball gown. Now, at the ripe old age of 30, it’s dawned on me that in some messed-up, regressive, psychologically contentious way, I’m still sub-consciously trying to appropriate her look.  And that my beauty choices in adulthood have simply been a protracted process of attempting to morph into a real-life Cinderella (minus the five-inch waist). 

For one  – despite the odd dalliance with brunette or auburn – sunshine blonde is my spirit hair colour. Always has been. I like a proper brow most days and I seldom stray from a red lip. And I was born with fair, Caucasian skin. So, herein lies my theory; as children we align ourselves with the characters – both in real life and in the media we consume, be it Disney films, Barbies or er, Pokemon – that represent pre-existing physical parallels in ourselves. And then subliminally seek to appropriate them in later life.

"I was convinced that one day, I’d grow up to look exactly like Cinderella, down to the button nose, 5-inch waist and pale blue frou-frou ball gown" - Joanna McGarry, beauty director

It’s not just me, promise. ‘I’m sort of one of those freaks too, sorry,’ admits Never Underdressed’s staff writer, Lynn Enright. ‘I remember watching Aladdin in the cinema and Jasmine remains a beauty idol for me. She is far more exotic and beautiful than I could ever hope to be – she’s tanned whereas I am much more of a Snow White – but I identified with her much more than the pre-established stable of Disney characters,’ she says. ‘I think it had something to do with her freshness and otherness.’

Freelance beauty editor, Viola Levy tells a similar story. ‘When I was in primary school, Jasmine was the only princess at the time with long black hair like mine. She was the character doled out to me in the playground, while my blonde friends were Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.’ But, she was perfectly happy with her kindred Disney spirit; Jasmine was familiar, but mysterious too. 

‘I loved Jasmine’s almond shaped-eyes and long hair which required several hair grips and seemed to have a life of its own. Though I was more of a tomboy as a child, as an adult I hurriedly scribble on ‘Jasmine eyes’ every morning which involves using three different types of eyeliner.’ In a further sub-conscious homage to Jasmine, Levy has an aversion to scissors. ‘I’ve never been a fan of cutting my hair short or dyeing it,’ she adds.

"as an adult I hurriedly scribble on ‘Jasmine eyes’ every morning which involves using three different types of eyeliner" - Viola Levy, freelance beauty editor

Likewise Elin Evans, junior fashion editor at Never Underdressed cites Ariel of The Little Mermaid as a likely (albeit unconscious) influence in her grown-up beauty choices. ‘Looking back at Ariel’s beauty aesthetic, there are definite parallels – the other Disney princesses were about soft tones and pastels, but Ariel was all about the contrasts. She had that mass of bright red hair against her pale skin, reddish lipstick and mascara only on the top lashes, which spookily, is exactly how I approach my make-up now. Who knew a Disney film would have that much resonance?’

Well, according to leading psychologist, Dr Linda Papadopoulos, it’s simply part of growing up. ‘The idea of what beauty is, is something that’s formed throughout our lives,’ explains leading psychologist, Dr Linda Papadopoulos. ‘What’s interesting is that, as children we group familiar things together – which is why we’ll call every furry animal a dog for a while. And so the archetypes of what beauty is – whether that’s a Barbie doll or a Disney princess – are going to cluster around certain traits; a tiny waist, a hair band, long eyelashes...’

"the other Disney princesses were about soft tones and pastels, but Ariel was all about the contrasts which is exactly how I approach my make-up now" - Elin Evans, junior fashion editor

But what made me gallop towards Cinderella, while others lean towards Jasmine? ‘In the same way that babies can hear accents in their own language and they visually search for a look that similar to their own families,’ explains Papadopoulos. ‘That familiarity breeds a sense of comfort. And it’s about wanting beauty to look like you.  As a Greek girl with a monobrow, I couldn’t find a Barbie with dark hair in the 80s. I wanted a doll that looked like me, because I wanted to see which part of me looked like beauty.’

This mirroring hasn’t been a shared experience for all of us.  ‘I didn’t really connect with a princess in my core Disney-watching prime,’ explains Anita Bhagwandas, beauty and health editor at Women’s Health. ‘Sure, Snow White had black hair, but the rest were very fair and bore no relation to the way I looked. At that age, you don’t recognise that this is only one form of femininity and beauty and I’m sure a lot of women my age can identify with not being able to truly connect with Disney.’ When Princess Jasmine came along when Bhagwandas was eight years old, ‘she looked slightly more like me, except sleek-haired and elegant (my curly hair took two people to control!).’ 

"As a Greek girl with a monobrow, I couldn’t find a Barbie with dark hair in the 80s. I wanted a doll that looked like me, because I wanted to see which part of me looked like beauty" - Dr Linda Papadopoulos

As children, we’re psychological sponges, soaking up information that informs the script with which we approach our own behaviour and appearance, and we instinctively seek out the familiar to do so. What’s crucial however is variety in the physicality of the cast of characters to aspire to. As Bhagwandas says, ‘if I ever have a daughter, my main priority will be to ensure that she gets a rounded view of beauty – one that’s inclusive, progressive and recognises inner beauty above all else.’ Fortunately, the four year olds of today have a wider spectrum of princesses with which to find physical parallels: the 2009 Disney fairy-tale, The Princess and the Frog, featured the first black lead female character in Tiana, a strong-willed songbird, while the Chinese characters of Disney's animated 1998 epic Mulan were drawn with realistic-looking eyes.

Unquestionably, the progress in reflecting diversity has been astonishingly slow, but one thing's certain: today, Disney's core audience of young girls have a raft of characters to choose to align themselves with – the princess, the villain and of course, even the prince. And when it comes to forming subconscious notions of beauty that remain well until adulthood, that's a very good thing.