The Real Magic At Disneyland Isn’t The Castle

The Real Magic At Disneyland Isn’t The Castle

BY CLAIRE LUISA

On a sunny Southern California morning, I excitedly put on my long-planned outfit: a royal blue cropped rugby shirt, a yellow pleated exercise miniskirt, red heart-shaped sunglasses, and of course, red lipstick. My friend Liv donned fairy wings and glitter galore.  

Looking in the mirror, I felt a frisson of delight. We were dopamine-dressed and DisneyBound  – about to make the happiest place on Earth even happier.

In recent years, the concept of “dopamine dressing,” or donning clothing that brings happiness to the wearer, has inundated social media and the fashion world. Dopamine is that darling little neurotransmitter hormone that’s part of the brain’s reward system, activated by food, sex, drugs, or validation – often in the form of likes on Instagram. Getting dressed for fun is a virtually harmless way to get a hit of the good stuff. 

Research suggests members of the neurodivergent community have lower levels of dopamine, so the practice of dopamine dressing may be particularly appealing for us. Many of us know all too well how a certain fabric or texture might feel bothersome, while a specific item like a hat or a hoodie may bring comfort. Favorite colors, motifs, a particular brand, or items relating to special interests could play a part in increasing dopamine levels. 

For Disney fans, what could deliver a better happy hit than becoming your favorite character? Created by fashion blogger and author Leslie Kay in 2011 on Tumblr, DisneyBounding is a quintessential example of dopamine dressing: a way to incorporate elements of a Disney character’s look into an ensemble, whether in daily life, during an event, or for a theme park visit. Since Disney guests aged 14 years and older are not allowed to wear costumes to the park,

creating a DisneyBound outfit is a way for adults to pay homage to their favorite characters without breaking the rules – and to get the dopamine pumping. 

So when I was gifted a pair of tickets to Disneyland in Anaheim for my birthday, I knew what I had to do. I wouldn’t just get a happy high from rocking a cute, ‘grammable outfit – I would go for the full dopamine blast. 

When I sheepishly suggested doing a DisneyBound look to one of my most stylish friends and fellow ADHD girlies, Liv, she was 1000% on board. We spent a few weeks planning our looks, both shopping and sending each other reference images. I chose my childhood favorite, Snow White – as a kid, she was the only dark-haired princess I could look up to. (By the time Mulan came out, I was a teenager and didn’t pay much attention to Disney movies – though the canonically queer, cross-dressing Asian warrior princess is WAY more aligned with my identities, and I’ll probably DisneyBound as her next time!) 

My sporty ensemble ended up being perfect for the 80-degree day. My shirt’s white collar was reminiscent of Snow White’s bodice, and I made sure to keep my red heart-shaped sunglasses on the top of my head to evoke her red bow. Liv’s rave-inspired Tinkerbell look consisted of green flowy separates with a fairy-wing backpack, hair in a high bun, and more glitter than a drag queen’s craft night. 

Once every element was in place, our excitement was palpable. Giggling, we snapped mirror selfies (both demure and thotty) as we answered the question, “Who’s the flyest of them all?” 

Us, obviously.

Having taken our time to get dressed, we rolled into the Disneyland parking lot at 2 pm and immediately noticed other adults rocking DisneyBound looks. There was a lot of Winnie the Pooh representation, with red tops with mustard yellow bottoms. I spotted a handful of other Snow Whites in bachelorette party squads with Belles, Cinderellas, and Jasmines. 

We both got a lot of compliments from fellow DisneyBounders (game recognizes game) but also from regular folks. The interactions were quick, which relieved us of the pressure to engage in small talk. 

Since this was a day for fun and relaxation, Liv and I had made the ADHD-inspired executive decision to establish a safe space for our mutual timeblindness to run free and not to put pressure on ourselves to stick to a certain timetable.

We shared the goal of having a chill day to see the sights, smell the smells, take photos, and feel the dopamine vibes. As long as we got to ride the Haunted Mansion, we were good. 

After wandering Main Street and seeking out snacks, Liv and I stumbled upon Snow White Grotto, a sleepy enclave on the east side of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, complete with a wishing well and waterfall with statues of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. It’s easy to become overstimulated at the park, so Disney has made quiet places such as this one to take breaks, one of many resources and accommodations they offer neurodivergent parkgoers. Snow White Grotto was the perfect place to relax, unmask, put our stuff down, and sit for a minute. The setting also vibed great with my outfit.

Aside from people passing through for quick photos by the well, no one else was spending extended time in this objectively “boring” area except for a couple doing a DisneyBound Sally Ragdoll and Jack Skellington look. The way they sat on the bench together made me think they were enjoying their own overstimulation break. 

Liv and I spent about 45 minutes cracking each other up, laughing about how ridiculous it was that Raver Tinkerbell and Sporty Snow White were chugging Monster energy drinks and Diet Coke, while sitting on the Snow White Grotto stairs like total dirtbags. We reflected on the pureness of the moment, a fantastical break from our stressful adult lives, a day to really lean into the ol’ childlike wonder, and feel lighter and more carefree. Mission accomplished – and the outfits absolutely helped. 

Feeling revived, we headed for Adventureland. As I waited for Liv outside the bathroom, a bespectacled little girl approached me. “Excuse me,” she said in a quiet, measured voice. “Your dress is very beautiful.” 

She was shy, direct, and very serious. I was caught a little off-guard but absolutely tickled. I thanked her earnestly. 

As she turned and walked back to her family, I saw her mom and dad both beaming and congratulating her, ostensibly proud that she had faced the daunting task of talking to someone she didn’t know. 

Their reaction compelled me to approach them. I introduced myself to her parents and grandmother. “Wait til you see my friend,” I told them. “She’s dressed like Tinkerbell.” 

The girl handed me a blue rubber Autism Awareness bracelet and a gift bag with stickers featuring the Emotions from the Inside Out movies. Suddenly, the significance of her approaching me made sense. “I’m neurodivergent too,” I told her. 

“So are we!” her parents shared. “We started to figure it out for ourselves after she got her diagnosis.” Her parents opened up, and we chatted for a bit. When Liv appeared, the little girl was doubly delighted, holding steady eye contact and shyly smiling. As we parted, I immediately started tearing up. I could have met any of the Princesses, but nothing gave me more joy than sharing a moment with that little girl. 

I’d gotten dressed that day purely for my own enjoyment, but I hadn’t expected to actually make an impact on someone else – someone like me.

Sure, I looked fly as a DisneyBound Snow White, but the opportunity to connect with both neurodivergent and neurotypical folks alike ended up being the best dopamine of all that day.

BIO: Claire Luisa is a writer, standup comedian, and retired rapper based in Los Angeles. She’s a Filipino Gemini with ADHD so you know this story was not turned in on time.