No vanity

No vanity is a moral rule that Marilla Cuthbert consistently enforces at Green Gables, directed primarily at Anne Shirley's intense preoccupation with her own appearance. From the earliest days of Anne's arrival, Marilla treats vanity as a serious character flaw that must be corrected through strict discipline and plain living. The rule is not merely a personal preference but a deeply held conviction about how a child—especially a girl—ought to be raised, and it becomes one of the central tensions in Anne's moral education.

The Rule as a Principle of Upbringing

Marilla's opposition to vanity is rooted in her own austere temperament and her sense of responsibility as Anne's guardian. When Anne first sees the three new dresses Marilla has made for her—snuffy-colored gingham, black-and-white checkered sateen, and a stiff ugly blue print, all made alike with plain skirts and tight sleeves—and confesses that they are "not pretty," Marilla responds sharply: "I didn't trouble my head about getting pretty dresses for you. I don't believe in pampering vanity, Anne, I'll tell you that right off. Those dresses are good, sensible, serviceable dresses, without any frills or furbelows about them" . The dresses are deliberately plain, designed to teach Anne that clothing serves utility, not self-display. Marilla's method is consistent: she refuses to make even one dress with puffed sleeves, despite Anne's passionate longing, because she considers puffed sleeves "ridiculous-looking things" and prefers "the plain, sensible ones" . The rule against vanity is thus woven into the very fabric of Anne's daily life, expressed through the clothes she wears and the reproofs she receives.

Anne's Internal Conflict and the Limits of the Rule

Anne herself internalizes the rule but struggles against it, torn between her natural love of beauty and her desire to be good. When Marilla scolds her for thinking too much about her looks, Anne protests: "How can I be vain when I know I'm homely?" . She argues that she loves pretty things and hates to see something ugly in the glass, but Marilla's response—"Handsome is as handsome does" —offers no comfort. Anne's longing for puffed sleeves becomes a symbol of this conflict: she prays for a white dress with puffed sleeves, but "didn't much expect it on that account. I didn't suppose God would have time to bother about a little orphan girl's dress" . The rule against vanity thus creates a persistent tension between Anne's imaginative, beauty-loving nature and the moral discipline Marilla imposes.

The Hair-Dyeing Incident: Vanity Punished

The most dramatic confrontation with the rule comes when Anne, desperate to escape her red hair, buys hair dye from a peddler and turns her hair green. Marilla's reaction is immediate and severe: "Dyed it! Dyed your hair! Anne Shirley, didn't you know it was a wicked thing to do?" . Anne admits she knew it was "a little wicked" but thought it "worth while to be a little wicked to get rid of red hair" . The punishment is swift and humiliating: Marilla cuts off Anne's hair, leaving her shorn and ugly. Anne later reflects on the lesson: "Dyeing my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about my hair and nose now—at least, very seldom" . The incident serves as a turning point, forcing Anne to confront the consequences of her vanity and to begin the long process of accepting herself as she is.

The Rule's Evolution: From Prohibition to Self-Acceptance

Over time, the rule against vanity softens as Anne matures and as Marilla herself changes. When Matthew buys Anne a beautiful brown gloria dress with puffed sleeves for Christmas, Marilla grumbles but does not forbid it: "Well, I must say I don't think Anne needed any more dresses. I made her three good, warm, serviceable ones this fall, and anything more is sheer extravagance. There's enough material in those sleeves alone to make a waist, I declare there is. You'll just pamper Anne's vanity, Matthew, and she's as vain as a peacock now" . Yet she allows Anne to keep and wear the dress, and later admits to herself that Anne looked "real nice" at the concert . By the end of the novel, Anne has learned to accept her appearance without the desperate longing that once drove her. When she tells Marilla, "I never think about my hair and nose now—at least, very seldom" , she signals that the rule has done its work: vanity has been replaced by a quieter self-acceptance, though the imaginative spirit that once fueled it remains intact.