There's a fantasy most parents allow their daughters to indulge in at young age. It frequently involves taffeta, a good dose of pink and some chintzy crown from the local dollar store.

The princess fantasy is one that many parents — even those who, at some point referred to themselves as feminists — allow simply because "it's what little girls do."

At least before they're old enough for soccer practice.

That was in the mid-1980s, when my bedroom looked more like a "My Little Pony" corral than a place of rest. This is 2007.

The fantasy is now marketed to last significantly longer.

A recent New York Times article, entitled "What's wrong with Cinderella?" reported a surge in the market for "princess products," spurred by a craze for princess birthday parties (in which girls are given "princess makeovers") and everyone's favorite princess purveyor: Disney.

According to the article, faced with sharply declining toy sales in 2000, Disney executive Andy Mooney noticed a multitude of girls dressed in ad-hoc princess costumes at a Disney On-Ice show. At that moment, a "light-bulb went off."

Here was a relatively up-tapped, built-in market catering to an age-old gender stereotype.

Perhaps the rest can be called a "happily-ever-after" for investors, as Disney now offers more than 25,000 princess products.

Whole stores, once devoted to the desires of little Aladdins and Simbas are now chalk-full of Ariels, Jasmines, Belles, Cinderellas, Pocahantases, Mulans, Snow Whites and Sleeping Beauties.

So what's the problem? Hasn't playing princess always been a part of girlhood?

The problem, according to Lyn Mikel Brown, a professor of human development and education at Colby College quoted in the article, is 25,000 princess products.

"When one thing is so dominant, then it's no longer a choice: It's a mandate, cannibalizing all other forms of play. There's the illusion of more choices out there for girls, but if you look around, you'll see their choices are steadily narrowing," Brown said.

The problem is also the fact that the princess fantasy is being marketed to last significantly past the years of "single-digits."

Just down the mall way, the 'tween paradise of Hot Topic now offers a plethora of "grown-up princess products" that display the forgotten-princess Tinker Bell in sexpot regalia cooing phrases like, "Spoiled to perfection" and "Mood subject to change without notice."

Perhaps this is an overreaction, but what message are we sending, in terms of unrealistic expectations, when we allow our daughters to graduate from the demure Ariel to the naughty Hot Topic Tinker Bell?

Sadly, one need not wonder what the effects of this type "extended-princess fantasy" have on a generation of girls.

I know multiple girls who demand to be treated as princesses by their boyfriends (which, if he puts up with it, may say more about him than her) in hopes to fulfill some grandiose leftover princess fantasy that magically now includes little boxes from Tiffany's and Marc Jacobs bags.

I also know more than a few friends who have succumbed to the happily-ever-after fantasy in a world where half of "happily-ever-afters" end in a lawyer's office and a schedule for child custody.

While Mooney cites, in Disney's defense, that there are no studies proving that playing princess directly damages girls' self-esteem, according to the article, "There is evidence that young women who hold the most conventionally feminine beliefs — who avoid conflict and think they should be perpetually pretty and nice — are more likely to be depressed and less likely to use contraception. What's more, the 23-percent decline in girls' participation in sports and other vigorous activity has been linked to their sense that athletics is unfeminine."

Call me cynical, but I think a healthy dose of realism might help the young girls of America on their path to becoming healthier, more functional citizens.

One could even speculate that rates of adolescent depression and eating disorders would decline if girls weren't raised on the princess bust-to-waistline ratios, which equate a cessation in menstruation.

While we may not be able to erase the consequences of the "Princess Effect" on generations of women, we can encourage a diversity of vision and fantasy in the future. And while the Harry Potter craze may seem ridiculous to some, at least the series' "brainy princess" Hermione knows that true power and prestige lies more in books than in looks.

The fact that all little girls will be at one time viewed as princesses may be unavoidable. Much can be done, however, to ensure that "our little princesses" grow up to be true women.

Reach columnist Maureen Trantham at maureentrantham@thedaily.washington.edu