The answer is, of course, yes: that girls can wear pants as much as they like isn-t news. Nonetheless, debut authors Guthrie, a Today Show host, and Oppenheim, a parent educator, introduce princess Penelope Pineapple, who believes, -Crowns and gowns have their place, no doubt./ But that-s not all this girl was about.- In addition to a closet full of dresses, Penny has an armoire stocked with pants for every occasion, whether farming, hosting a science fair, or hanging out. During the Pineapple Ball, Penny-s decision to wear swim trunks under her dress pays off when she saves the royal cat from drowning. Debut illustrator Byrne-s images-awash in pink, and rendered in elegant, loopy lines-exude an unapologetic fashionista sensibility that should find fans. But the perspective that motivates the story seems unnecessarily narrow (Penny is being true to herself, yes, but one can also make an impact on the world while wearing a dress), and the lumbering verse (-As the crowds climbed down the palace staircase,/ None could imagine what would soon take place-) doesn-t help. Ages 3-7. Authors- agency: Creative Artists Agency. Illustrator-s agent: Anne Moore Armstrong, Bright Group. (Sept.)

This book wants to be feminist.Princess Penelope Pineapple, illustrated as a white girl with dark hair and eyes, is the Amelia Bloomer of the Pineapple Kingdom. She has dresses, but she prefers to wear pants as she engages in myriad activities ranging from yoga to gardening, from piloting a plane to hosting a science fair. When it's time for the Pineapple Ball, she imagines wearing a sparkly pants outfit, but she worries about Grand Lady Busyboots' disapproval: " ‘Pants have no place on a lady!' she'd say. / ‘That's how it has been, and that's how it shall stay.' " In a moment of seeming dissonance between the text and art, Penny seems to resolve to wear pants, but then she shows up to the ball in a gown. This apparent contradiction is resolved when the family cat, Miss Fussywiggles, falls from the castle into the moat and Princess Penelope saves her—after stripping off her gown to reveal pink, flowered swimming trunks and a matching top. Impressed, Grand Lady Busyboots resolves that princesses can henceforth wear whatever they wish. While seeing a princess as savior rather than damsel in distress may still seem novel, it seems a stretch to cast pants-wearing as a broadly contested contemporary American feminist issue. Guthrie and Oppenheim's unimaginative, singsong rhyme is matched in subtlety by Byrne's bright illustrations. Skip it. (Picture book. 3-5)