In Defense of the Barbie Doll

If there were a prize for "Biggest Barbie Fan of All Time" it would stand on a shelf somewhere in my home. My first Barbie doll had that original "Barbie" ponytail. When I met her she was wearing the familiar, classic, black-and-white striped swimsuit. Her sunglasses (with white frames and blue lenses) were tucked in the box, along with a small catalog of Barbie outfits and her black metal pedestal-stand.

I hadn't always wanted a Barbie doll. I actually thought the original Barbie was "ugly". To me, she didn't have the pretty face that Vogue's Ginny and Jill dolls had, and I had always loved my Ginny dolls, Ginette dolls (Ginny's baby sister), and Jill doll. (I had been given a Jeff doll, the boyfriend of Jill, but my feminine-faced Jeff doll had only a tuxedo to wear, so poor Jeff was ignored most of the time.) Even with her beautiful prom gown and light aqua balloon dress, however, Jill didn't have that high-fashion look that Barbie had. So, in spite of the fact that I didn't think Barbie had a pretty face, and didn't particularly like the elastic band that created a strange knob at the end of her ponytail, I eventually decided I wanted a Barbie doll after all.

Barbie was a" teenage fashion model". Unlike Jill, Barbie didn't have "toy" accessories. Barbie had clothing and accessories that were miniatures - and there is a big difference. Unlike Jill, who actually looked a little more like many of the teenage girls I knew, Barbie looked like nobody I had ever seen. Her strangely tall and narrow build, along with that famous "top" of hers, let Barbie's clothes look sharp and polished. I recall often saying that I thought Barbie didn't look like a teenager and that, instead, she looked thirty. Still, even with my need to overlook a face I didn't find pretty and those long legs that made getting Barbie into her sports car and boat very difficult, I became obsessed with Barbie and all things teeny-tiny. (I've always assumed that Barbie's narrow, angular, sharp, appearance in her clothes is particularly appealing to girls because most girls and women find the sharp, angular, male build more appealing than a softer, rounder, feminine shape.)

Since I wasn't a girl who ever planned to be a fashion model, it didn't take me long to turn my Barbie doll into someone who did things in which I thought I would be interested when I grew up. For a few years, my girlfriend and I would spend hours and hours each week, "playing Barbie" and imagining all the things our Barbie dolls (and later Midge dolls, Ken dolls, Allen dolls, Skipper dolls and that baby from the "Barbie Babysits" outfit) could do.

Our Barbie dolls each had their own "Dream House". Mine had her "Fashion Shop". My doll was not a fashion model. She was the manager of her Fashion Shop, and she was frequently ordering new inventory. Sometimes our dolls worked in offices. They went to the beach and proms more than any real people generally ever do. Having get-togethers in that Dream House was something they often did. As my friend and I reached the upper end of our doll years, our Barbie dolls actually smoked cigarettes on occasion. Then, too, even though Barbie was supposed to be single and childless we ignored that and that, as well as the male role in reproduction entirely; and we made maternity clothes for Barbie. We imagined the excitement of awaiting the arrival of a baby. (By the way, Barbie's new baby wasn't always that "Barbie Babysits" baby. My friend and I each had smaller, newborn-looking, dolls that made a better baby for Barbie - if and when she ever really had the baby at all. It was more the maternity clothes that interested us and not the actual having of the baby.)

It was with anticipation and absolute delight that I welcomed each new Barbie doll to my family of Barbie dolls (and relatives and friends). The first Barbie with different wigs meant Barbie could finally have a dark brown flip. There was the first "bendy-knee" Barbie, which was, in the opinion of me and my friend, "the ultimate". That knee thing had always been a problem, although we did like the way even Barbie's unbending knees remained elegantly close together when she sat, as opposed to the way a sitting Jill doll's legs formed an inelegant 45-degree angle. Although Vogue created some Ginny dolls with "bendy" knees, the knees were hinged on the outside, which made Ginny look as if she had an orthopedic issue. "Bendy-knee" Barbie could sit in her glider swing, across from another "bendy-knee" Barbie, with ease.

So, for a few years in my childhood I enjoyed Barbie's polish and style, as I imagined all the things grown-up girls probably did once they entered that amazing world of being grown up.

When the time came to buy my Barbie dolls a new outfit, (with the exception of the "Barbie Babysits" outfit, which had that adorable baby doll) I would not select the "limited" outfits, such as the "stewardess" uniform or wedding dress. I wisely selected outfits that Barbie could wear to any number of places, rather than those that limited her role to one career or event. I learned the value of "mix-and-match" outfits and a versatile wardrobe young - thanks to Barbie. Besides the vast array of absolutely adorable and realistic little outfits that could be purchased for Barbie, my Barbie dolls had hand-made clothing made by family members. Also, my girlfriend and I (particularly toward the end of our doll-playing days) would often design fashions (besides the maternity wear) and make our own Barbie clothes. There were times, too, when we'd create miniature food, books, or other items for Barbie and her friends, which took "playing Barbie" more in the direction of arts and crafts.

When I was twelve, even though my friend and I no longer "played Barbie" my doll collection was never far away. I'd occasionally bring out Barbie and her friends to change their outfits, only to realize there wasn't much left to do once their clothes had been changed. By the time I was thirteen, the Barbie dolls were no longer sitting out in my bedroom and were, instead, lovingly packed away, where dust would not find them. When I permanently moved out of my childhood home in my twenties, even though I left a lot of my childhood things behind I made sure that the box with my Barbie dolls, and the cases that kept their belongings so safe, was among the things I brought with me. Maybe I would never "play Barbie" again, but I still treasured my collection. "Playing Barbie" had allowed my best friend and me the chance to leave childhood (which for both of us was actually a wonderful one) and imagine all the things the future could hold for young women.

I watched Barbie evolve over the time between my childhood and the time when younger family members "played Barbie". Barbie's heavily made up (and not-all-that-pretty) face had been turned pretty. Her blond ponytail had been turned into a variety of beautiful hairstyles, with hair very often in volume that no real girl's hair would ever be. By the time I had my own little four-year-old daughter, even though I knew she was a little young for "playing Barbie" I couldn't resist buying her a couple of ballerina Barbie dolls, a few in beautiful ice skating outfits, and, of course, a couple of collector's dolls in amazing gowns. I bought my little daughter Barbie dolls of different races and nationalities as a way of teaching her about diversity in real people. As my daughter grew, so did her love for Barbie. Like her mother, she "played Barbie" with her friends and collected a number of things that would make Barbie's life more interesting.

Even when she had long outgrown "playing Barbie" my daughter enjoyed the occasional collector Barbie doll. When she graduated high school her graduation gifts would not have been complete without the "Graduation Barbie", who held an ornament that showed the year of graduation.

When Mattel introduced the "fat" Barbie doll a few years ago, in an attempt to create a more realistic doll in response to years of criticism of Barbie's unrealistic dimensions, my daughter and I discussed the criticisms of the Barbie doll and the way so many people blamed the doll for everything from girl's self-esteem problems to unrealistic expectations for themselves. (The new Barbie dolls were not "fat". They just had slightly waists and more realistic proportions than their predecessors had. The new dolls, however, were often called, "fat" in jest.) My daughter rolled her eyes and said, "I always just saw it as a doll. I never thought I'd grow up to be like Barbie." Like my daughter, when I was a child and playing with Barbie dolls, I saw my dolls as nothing more than dolls. Even as a little girl, when I heard that Barbie song in the television commercial, "Barbie you're beautiful. You make me feel as if my Barbie doll is real...", I would think, "I don't really think she's beautiful, but she does make me feel as if she's real." By the end of my "Barbie-playing" days, however, I was actually quite aware that I was the one who made my Barbie doll seem real, because once I stopped "playing Barbie" the whole crowd of dolls just sat in my bedroom, doing nothing but being dolls.

Not long ago, I did some research for an article on the Barbie doll and the fact that she has become so maligned by so many. Studies of college students revealed that a lot of girls admitted to hating the Barbie doll because she was "so perfect" (and in some cases, because of all her frilly pink belongings). An unsettling percentage of participants of the study admitted to having "tortured" their Barbie dolls. One young woman said she and her sister had taken off all Barbie's clothes and buried her in the snow, so she'd "freeze" all Winter. When the snow and ice melted they brought the doll in and burned her. Other girls joined with their brothers to "torture" the dolls. I found it disturbing that Barbie's prettiness and her image as a model of femininity would bring about such hatred and cruelty in children. Such behavior, however, is not the fault of the doll or even the result of the fact that she was molded to have a great shape for wearing clothes.

Barbie - that perfect but make-believe character - who has a perfection that only makes sense when a character is a plastic, manufactured, girl - has enough outfits and equipment to let little girls imagine their doll being anything from a professional skater to an astronaut (and in some cases, dabbling in more than just a few careers). For girls who want to imagine their Barbie dolls as college students, friends, or even expectant mothers, those possibilities exist as well. The "fat" Barbie dolls weren't as coveted by girls; because the Barbie doll is about imagining possibilities, and imagining possibilities often includes imagining perfection (or at least high standards).

I was ten years old when I was aware of the fact that no real women had legs in proportions that Barbie's legs were, and that most teenage girls didn't have bust lines like Barbie's. I didn't need to be an orthopedic surgeon or even a grown-up to realize that Barbie's perpetually high-heel shaped feet meant she required assistance if she were to stand or walk. Those unrealistic characteristics of Barbie's anatomy, however, were the things that made her clothes hang so well. They were also what let me have a doll that looked so polished and perfect in her clothes that she wasn't just about playing dolls. The Barbie doll was about collecting, appreciating miniatures, styling hair, putting together outfits, imagining possibilities, and - yes - even admiring a pretty face.

Little girls face a future in which they must find a balance between being strong, independent, women who may also want a husband, family, education, and good job. They need to figure out what their opinions will be about wearing make-up, what image they want to present, and what qualities they think are important for a young woman to have. Girls don't wake up on their thirteenth or eighteenth birthday, automatically having all these things sorted out. It takes those "practice" years of childhood to help girls be ready for those eighteenth birthdays. The Barbie doll would not have enjoyed so much success over the last fifty years if "she" didn't meet some need that little girls have. As a member of the first generation of "Barbie", and as the younger sister of someone who never got to "play Barbie", I truly believe the Barbie doll is more than appropriate for young girls. "She" is a valuable part of a girl's childhood.

Like my daughter, I never looked at my Barbie dolls and imagined myself becoming like them when I grew up. I was the one who "made my Barbie doll seem real"; and not so long after I packed my dolls away in boxes I entered adulthood, knowing exactly the kind of young woman I wanted to be, knowing what was important to me, and fully realizing the difference between my plastic pals and my very real and imperfect self. More worth noting, however, is this: Just it was I who made my Barbie dolls "seem real", it was also I (like my parents before me) who managed to help my daughter understand the difference between the make-believe world of Barbie and the realities of being a very real young woman.