A NY Times Magazine article profiles the American Tween Idol and what she represents not just for girls aged 8-14 but to their parents. Miranda Cosgrove (iCarly) stands at the gates of a sort of coming-of-age period from girl to woman pointing to an ambiguous space where Nickelodeon and Disney don’t seem to belong – the threshold of teenage sexuality:

 

...That makes Cosgrove the latest in a series of “It” girls — among them Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez and Hilary Duff — who have emerged over the past decade: not just actresses, not just singers, these young women are industries. In addition to TV shows, they have movies, recording careers, clothing and cosmetic lines, and their images appear on everything from coloring books to nail clippers. Their popularity, in part, rises from the new perch they occupy in tween girls’ hearts. Rather than wanting to be with their idols (as they would, say, Justin Bieber), young fans want to be them. That’s a different relationship entirely.

 

Still, the secret to their juggernauts may have less to do with kids’ fantasies than with the one they evoke in parents: from the smoothness of their skin to the length of their hemlines to the banality of their song lyrics and sitcom plots, these young stars embody an ideal of teenage innocence that adults are grateful to embrace. For as many seasons as the illusion can be maintained, they remain, at least onscreen, uncomplicated, untroubled good girls, on the verge of, but never actually awakening to, their sexuality. There is a lot of money to be made — and a lot of parental anxiety to be tapped — by walking that line. There is also a lot of fury unleashed at those who step across it. When young stars pose semi-nude or get caught drinking, they threaten the notion that our own daughters’ coming-of-age could be effortless. Suddenly, the “role models” who have perpetuated that myth become the vector of our fears. The betrayal feels personal and cuts deep.