The Barbie Question, Again
I've posted thie before, but the topic came up over at siviusx's LJ, so I think it deserves to be repeated
It's kind of become a thing with me, now. Whenever I meet someone new, eventually I have to ask her about Barbie. Did you have one? How many? And, most importantly, how did you play with it? I get some fascinating answers to that last one. Everything from soap opera stories, to Amazon tribes with weird rituals that involve safety scissors and the microwave, to simple dress up.
I find you can learn a lot about people based on how they played with their Barbies.
It was a while before I got my first Barbie. See, Mom felt that she was letting me down by getting me one. It's a feminist and body image thing that I completely understand now, but didn't at the time. Everyone else had Barbies, and I wanted one too.
Eventually, Mom caved in. I got a couple of blonde Barbies, one regular, and one with her arms crooked at her sides at 90-degree angles. Then, for Christmas one year, I got a Barbie dollhouse, complete with Barbies. The one and only Ken I ever had, and the first black Barbie I had ever seen. I see them all the time in Wal-Mart now, but I never saw any when I was kid. Mom felt she could instill me with cultural awareness, or something.
So. What I woke up to that Christmas was this black Barbie lounging on a beach chair in a pink swimsuit, and a white jacket thing, which was probably supposed to be a swim wrap. Nearby was Ken, in a white sparkly tuxedo. I came to the conclusion that Barbie was a doctor - remember the white coat. And probably a highly successful and specialized one, at that. A brain surgeon. And Ken was her trophy husband.
I don't know why Mom was so worried.
Anyway, now I want to hear your story. You know you have one! Nothings too weird. Seriously, I've heard some weird ones. Don't believe me? Here. That's not outlandish, compared to some stuff I've heard.