Do Little Girls Really Like Unicorns

I always see on TV shows like the Simpsons and Arthur where the little girls are shown as loving unicorns.

Is this true in real life? If you have a little girl or once were a little girl, do you/did you like unicorns?

Or is this one of those things that is on TV but not in real life.

Yes. Ponies are good, unicorns are better, sparkly pink unicorns are the best.
A horse with wings narrowly beats out a unicorn.
At least, that’s what most of the girls in my preschool class would tell you.

I disagree; a unicorn beats a Pegasus, but a winged unicorn is some kinda impostor.
My unicorn period lasted through high school, but mine were not of the sparkly variety. I leaned toward the authentic unicorn, who would come to lay his head in the lap of a virgin maiden.

FWIW, I just finished a unit on writing adventure stories with my second-graders (structure very loosely based on Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey), and while there were princesses and talking puppies and the like among the girls’ stories, none of them wrote about unicorns, nor have students in previous years.

My main problem is boys who love ninjas. After two different boys wrote stories with pictures of black figures attacking the hero and wrote about how “Suddenly nigas attacked him but he killed all the nigas,” I put “ninja” on a spelling list before the unit.

My own finding is that 100% of little girls polled said yes, they do like unicorns. One respondent offered that they rate exactly as highly as fairies, mermaids, princesses, Daddy, and birthdays. The other said that she liked all mythical creatures, even Sleipnir.

Ke$ha seems to like them. James Van Der Beek not so much.

That’s how I was! I loved unicorns, Pegasus was fine, but the combo was weird. I had some nice porcelain unicorn statues on my shelves in my room.

You know, skimming through google images of unicorns (because I like to do in-depth research before posting on the SDMB) I see that almost all of them that are not My Little Pony chubby type things, are white. I guess that’s just because they are so pure? I guess you have to be pretty darn pure to stick your horn in a virgin’s lap without raising any public outcry.

I prefer black unicorns personally.

As a former little girl I can’t say I ever thought about unicorns. I wanted a horse when we lived in AZ, but that faded when we moved overseas.

Oh god, yes. I used to collect little unicorn figurines. I agree that pegasus (pegasi?) are superior, though.

Speaking of…

Once, I can’t remember
I was, long ago, someone strange
I was innocent and wise
And full of pain

Now that I’m a woman
Everything is strange

I’m now remembering the terribly embarrassing book of poetry I wrote in tenth grade, entitled “Rainbows and Unicorns.” My mom had it laminated for me; she still has it. :o

I really wish we had an embarrassment smilie that didn’t look like it’s saying “insert horn here”

OK so it looks like TV finally got something right.

Part II of the question is:


Why do little girls like unicorns?

Do you remember this? I hope you know me well enough not to laugh…
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain

In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn

That is classic.

Markxxx, I can’t really think of a way to answer your question in a dignified fashion. The things I liked to play with were characters to me, in my own fantastic work of fiction… and I was a little girl, so I wanted to be the pink sparkly magical creature.

(My unicorns were total badasses though. They were always on some sort of quest.)

Also, I’ve spent the entire time since you’ve joined thinking your username was Marxxx, as in Karl. I just realized it’s Markxxx. Sorry about that.

Kozmic - do I remember that song? I own the DVD!

Little girls of all ages love unicorns because they’re like horses, but better.

They are pure white (usually), never dirty and muddy.
They are delicate and gentle, not large and stompy.
They are far more beautiful that mortal horses, so beautiful it would bring a tear to the eye of the hardest-hearted.
They are magical!

OK, see - horses are for little girls like motorcycles are for little boys. Except better. Because horses are living beings and you can groom them and feed them, and they’ll adore you. You can ride them and tell them secrets and they’ll be your loyal buddy.

So unicorns are super-better than that. They’re magical and rare, and probably have magic powers, and if you had one you’d be awesome, because any rich girl could get her parents to buy her a pony/horse, but a unicorn would pick you out as being worthy of being their rider/co-adventurer/special best friend.

This is what I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding lame.

I realize not all women are the same, and that women have both ‘‘feminine’’ and ‘masculine’’ qualities, as I myself did as a child and now, but really the bottom line with unicorns, as I see it, is that they’re really pretty.

ETA: I did not ever imagine myself riding the unicorn. I always was the unicorn. The prettiest, most powerful unicorn, on a special mission to rescue her true love.

I loved unicorns. Sparkly ones were tolerable, but I really preferred the medieval unicorn.

But when my Dad took me to meet the real live unicorn, I was simply blown away. A. Real. Live. Unicorn! I KNEW they were real!!!

RIP, Lancelot. Thanks for letting me pet your nose and, er, stroke your horn.
(OMG! I never realized that the unicorn’s creatorsand handlers were Oberon and Morning Glory Zell!)

Flying unicorns (preferably in pastel colors) were fine in the My Little Pony universe, as I recall.

My little girl is now 28 years old. In her room there is a huge bag filled with horses, unicorns, My Little Ponys and assorted stuff like that. Whenever her mother or I suggest she might want to clear out some space and maybe brighten up the life of a poor little girl, her voice drops about three octaves and she growls “DON"T TOUCH MY HORSES!”

This reminds me of a spot on This American Life, where a nearly thirty-year-old, well-educated woman, asked at a party in all seriousness, ‘‘Are unicorns extinct or just endangered?’’

Laughter. Dead silence. And then, uproarious laughter.