What is the controversial 'princess treatment' and why is Gen Z obsessed with it?

We're used to seeing old-fashioned high society courtships in series like Bridgerton , The Buccaneers and The Gilded Age.

But now the fascination with the chivalry of these period dramas has transformed into Gen Z's favorite social media phenomenon, one that's rapidly gaining traction: the "princess treatment."

This new relationship trend refers to various supposedly fairytale-worthy gestures made by women's partners, including (but not limited to) coffee in bed, flowers every Friday, a manicure paid for by your partner, and doors being opened for you.

In social media posts, princess treatment is often contrasted with the "bare minimum" (think: basic communication expectations and remembering birthdays).

And, of course, this treatment is extremely "clickable": social media platforms have increasingly turned private acts of affection into public displays.

But how healthy is this? Part manners trend, part relationship aspiration, part fantasy—is the princess treatment empowering, merely a diversion, or a sinister kind of exaggerated "traditionalism" toward the wifely role?

Nearly 130,000 Instagram posts are gathered under the hashtag #princesstreatment.

At the center of the trend is Utah-based influencer Courtney Palmer, a self-proclaimed "stay-at-home princess," whose TikTok—viewed 7.6 million times—describes her controversial expectations of her spouse. "At a restaurant with my husband, I don't talk to the hostess, I don't open the door, or I don't order my food."

Some critics have suggested that this more closely resembles the behavior of a prisoner than a princess.

Emma Beddington of the British newspaper The Guardian called it "emetic" and "disturbing." And yet, the princess's treatment is causing a stir, especially in the US.

Why the princess treatment is making waves

"In a time when relationships can feel transactional and often confusing, old-fashioned romance feels special," says Myka Meier, one of Instagram's top etiquette influencers.

For Meier, who has more than 650,000 followers on Instagram, princess treatment has less to do with materialism and more to do with emotional attention.

"The fantasy of being 'swept away' is based on a universal desire for refinement, respect and intentionality," Meier explains to the BBC.

With a new Downton Abbey film due out in September, and the heroine of Lena Dunham's new Netflix series, Too Much , fantasizing about being wooed by a Mr. Darcy-style suitor, there's no denying the current interest in depictions of old-fashioned, high-society romance.

The aforementioned series Bridgerton , The Buccaneers and The Gilded Age , not to mention The Crown , have rekindled interest in old-fashioned flirtation and made a romanticized version of historical high-society courtship accessible to streaming audiences.

These period dramas have "completely" influenced viewers' dating etiquette, says etiquette expert Daniel Post Senning, author of Manners in a Digital World . " Our stories influence how we interpret our emotions," says Senning, who is the great-great-grandson of American manners author Emily Post.

How America Fell in Love with Fairy Tales

Despite freeing themselves from subject status nearly 250 years ago, Americans have always been fascinated by royalty. When Queen Victoria was crowned in 1837, "Victoria fever" gripped the U.S.; American women wanted to know everything about her—even her Chelsea boots, says Arianne Chernock, a history professor at Boston University.

In the mid-20th century, Disney's animated film Cinderella and the televised coronation of Queen Elizabeth II helped further popularize royal women.

And today? "Americans are interested [in the royals] in the 20th and 21st centuries because Americans have become actors within the royal family," Chernock tells the BBC.

In 1936, Wallis Simpson—a divorced Pennsylvania-born socialite—was at the center of a constitutional crisis when King Edward VIII abdicated to marry her. Decades later, Prince Harry's marriage to California native Meghan Markle (now the Duchess of Sussex) reignited interest in the United States.

And, according to Chernock, Princess Diana, although British, became "the people's princess" across the Atlantic for her humanitarian work and celebrity.

"Diana had a huge following in the US," Chernock adds. "In fact, she even considered moving to the US because she always felt more supported here."

According to her, many Americans are fascinated by royalty precisely because it doesn't belong to them. The monarchy hovers above political disputes in the US like a fantasy.

"Queens and princesses provide this fusion between the private and the public that is not available to women in the US, with a gravitas and a political role that is not comparable to our American celebrities," she says.

As the world has moved to online media and social media platforms, the public's fascination with the lives of the wealthy and royalty (both as real figures and as fictional characters) has grown.

However, while fictional representations and social media influencers focus on opulence and comfort, real-life princesses also have tremendous soft power , which allows them to be important players when it comes to diplomacy.

"Being a princess is a lot of work," argues Chernock.

Empowerment or rebranded regression?

"Princess-like" is therefore a somewhat misleading term. Rather than describing a princess's lifestyle, it seems to be social media's interpretation of chivalry, says Senning.

In its original medieval context, chivalry comes from a system of chivalry with a code of conduct.

But in modern history, chivalry refers to the traditional, courteous behavior of men toward women, which some scholars say reinforces traditional gender roles and is a manifestation of "benevolent patriarchy."

On the other hand, says Meier, simple acts like pulling out a chair or walking someone home can make it clear you care about your partner or suitor. "Formality slows things down a bit, gives room for appreciation, and adds a little layer of magic," she argues.

Is it harmless enough, then? The emergence of the princess title has sparked a new debate, but Chernock says the discussion isn't new. Society has long used the princess theme to explore ideas of femininity and propriety.

"[The debate over princess treatment] is a referendum on the role of women in society, and there will never be a single perspective on that," she says.

The debate is the latest in a series of highly gendered relationship discourses, and follows in the footsteps of last summer's wave of so-called trad wives .

Traditional wives, or women who embrace and promote traditional gender roles, have captivated their followers with nostalgic (often blonde and bucolic) portrayals of domestic life.

The similar appeal to the nostalgia of princess treatment sparked a discussion about power. Why settle for the tiara when you can demand the "queen treatment"?

Perhaps, for those inclined toward the traditional wifely life, what's appealing is the implicit passivity of the princess role. The title of queen has a "charged and political" connotation, suggests Chernock, while the princess is portrayed through the rose-tinted lenses of youth, romance, and Disney fantasy.

And while the princess treatment may seem like a reworking of retrograde gender roles, Chernock points out that, on some level, the appeal of princesses emerges from their strength.

"When girls play princess, they are seeking permission to be in charge," she says.

Or maybe they don't need permission. After all, if women are the ones posting about the princess treatment, aren't they the ones in charge?

Read the full report (in English) on the BBC Culture website .