I never had a Barbie doll as a child, though curiously now I have three. My sister had a Barbie and a a few of the big accessories that went with her, but not the Barbie Dream House, despite asking for it year after year. As an adult she, when she was buying the second dream house for her granddaughters to play with at her house when she babysat them, she asked our mother why she never got the much coveted dream house, mom said that she had enough Barbie stuff.
I wasn't interested in dolls as a child and typically dismembered them and drew on their faces with ball point pen. And the one time my sister did prevail upon me to play Barbie with her, I put Barbie in our brother's GI Joe Jeep and sent her merrily on her way down a steep hill, and straight into a tree trunk. Barbie survived, but ever after had a dented boob.
"She's ruined!" my sister wailed. Now of course, since the Barbie movie, we now know that she was just played with too hard, and because of it, is impervious to being gaslit by the patriarchy. All hail the Barbies! They shall herald the wide-eyed future, and we will be standing by.
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1 comment:
Thanks for your valuable insights
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