Over the years, I’ve read a lot of stories about the problematic nature of Barbie. I’ve read about the negative impact she has on girls’ psyches-how her beauty ideal is damaging. I’ve read Barbie is racist, what with her blue eyes, blonde hair and fair skin. I’ve read Barbie reinforces a “girls are stupid”stereotype. And then when Mattel swapped out their stilettos for stethoscopes to honor women of science, I read even THAT was stupid and would have zero impact because to play with Barbie, any Barbie, is “still playing with a doll.”
It seems Barbie can’t win.
Now, I LOVED Barbie and played with Barbies all the time. I had the Barbie townhouse and the blow up furniture and the pool. I had the shoes and the clothes and the accessories… all of it. I dressed her and undressed her and played with my next door neighbor, Cricket, who had her own collection. They would go on many adventures together. Cricket’s dad had a baseball trophy in the form of an open baseball glove. We turned it into the “fancy” Barbie chair.
Yes, I was immersed in the world of Barbie, but, and this is important so listen up, not ONCE did I gaze at that plastic doll and think I should look like her.
Not even as a kid.
I knew SHE WAS A TOY. I knew she wasn’t real.
Her fingers and toes were fused together, she didn’t bend at the elbow, knee, ankle or wrist, her head only turned left or right (like adult me after sleeping wonky) and she had to stand on her toes ALL THE TIME. She didn’t eat or sleep or blink or change her expression or go to the bathroom or get sick. SHE WAS A DOLL.
Even as a small child, I realized this. And yet, Barbie, that obviously fake, molded plastic beauty still gets blamed for adult insecurity. I can only imagine what my mom would say if I had told her I don’t like my body because it didn’t look like Barbie. Yeah, that nonsense would be shut down fast.
“You do realize she’s a toy, right? I mean, you don’t look like those Fisher Price people, either. Do you want me to get rid of your arms and legs?”
But, in the interest of discussion, I could be wrong. And if I am wrong and Barbie SHOULD be blamed; if Barbie is the precursor to low self-esteem and unrealistic expectations for women everywhere, the question must be asked: why are other toys not equally problematic?
Where are all the surgeons battling with crippling insecurity because real procedures are nothing like the game of “Operation?”
Where are all the mothers of newborns negatively impacted by the fact they can’t make their baby’s hair longer by pulling on it like they did their childhood dolls?
Or the men who wake up every day defeated because they will never get to drive a muscle car on a Hot Wheels track and experience the thrill of THE LOOP?
Where are all the women suffering from the knowledge they will NEVER SMELL LIKE A STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE DOLL?
Where are the adults traumatized by potatoes because they grew up making faces in a Mr. Potato Head and now feel slicing a spud is tantamount to MURDER.
WHERE ARE THESE PEOPLE? WHY DON’T THEY EXIST? Why aren’t there studies conducted and lengthy articles written and warnings posted about the negative effects these childhood toys have on the adult humans who played with them?
It seems to me Barbie has taken a lot of unnecessary blame over the years. So much so, Mattel should run with it and make a “Scapegoat Barbie” for the haters, complete with knees that bend, a sign that says “It’s My Fault” and a dozen plastic donuts kids can tape to her hips. (‘Cause that’s where MY donuts always end up.)
It just seems to me that with Barbie, as with most things in life, if you WANT to find something wrong, you will.
I concur so tired of the droning nonsense spewed out in the blame game society we are now forced to live in. Every aspect of normal social behavior is dissected and tagged with a deeper meaning by the mentalist's. Leave Barbie alone!
Another viral worthy post. So well written!