What a Doll - Defending A Style Icon

Am I the only woman who was not traumatized by Barbie?  My dad bought me Barbie and Midge for Christmas when I was eight.  The dolls were the Fashion Queen models that came with a set of three wigs that could be styled according to their moods, outfits or personas.  They arrived in a big ol’ red vinyl case with storage for dozens of glamorous outfits that could have come straight from the pages of Vogue:  strapless stain jumpsuits, bolero jackets, peplum skirts, classic sheath dresses, slim velvet pants, sweaters with angora collars, cork wedgies. 

I thoroughly enjoyed Barbie as she was--a fashion icon for the playground set.  For my friends and me the Barbie scenario was always about getting dressed for a special event.  Choosing the right outfit for the matinee or the dinner party.  My dolls didn’t have poufy wedding gowns, but they had plenty of dresses to wear to work. 

Barbie was never my body ideal because she didn’t look like me.  I wasn’t stupid--Barbie was a grown up, I was a little kid.  She was white, I am black.  Besides, my childhood role model was my mother.  She was pretty and had lots of cool clothes and accessories.  A hunk of molded plastic was simply a way to pass time. 

I don’t get the anti-Barbie rant.  If a young girl’s identity is wrapped up in a hunk of plastic you need to ask what kind of relationships are being forged among the women in that family.  Are they demonstrating strong identity and self worth to the daughters?  Look closely at your family’s values for women and the powerful messages that are being communicated everyday.  If the girls in your family, in your acquaintance, in your charge, put more stock into a toy to craft their identities don’t rant and point fingers at the toymaker.  Check yourself and the messages that you send about being a woman. 

Barbie was fun, but her life wasn’t real.  Set a better example!

Photo from www.fashion-doll-guide.com