Barbie is Not the Enemy
Over the past year or so, Barbie dolls have been multiplying in our house faster than wet Mogwai.
Through holidays, birthdays and general gifting, we have gone from one single, solitary Barbie to a collection of nearly two dozen. (Somewhere, around number 20 or so, I stopped keeping track.) To be fair, this collection does include a few Disney princesses thrown in for good measure, as well as Barbie’s little sisters, Stacie (who, I suppose, has replaced Skipper) and Chelsea.
And since all these Barbies need a place to live, of course, we have a Barbie house. Oh, and a Barbie car, a carriage, a bike, a horse and a boat. And let’s not forget the merry-go-round and the swing set for Chelsea.
It’s safe to say that Barbie has a much more extravagant life than I do.
Anyway, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what all the darn fuss is about little girls playing with Barbie dolls.
Yes, I get the fact that if Barbie was “life-sized,” she wouldn’t be able to walk upright because the weight of her enormous ta-tas would cause her to topple over. And she’d probably have to shop in the toddler section for pants to fit her 12-inch waist.
But, here’s the thing: She’s not real.
Go ahead and call me anti-feminist. I don’t give a hooey. I’m not much for labels, anyway.
I’ve participated in conversations with mothers who won’t buy Barbie dolls because they’re worried about the doll’s effect on their daughters’ self-esteem. And, I agree, the Barbies do seem to be dressed a little more skankaliciously than when I was a kid, but still: Seek modestly dressed Barbies, and ye shall find.
I’m the mother of a little girl. I get it. I don’t want my daughter’s life to be all princesses and pink ponies, either. But here’s the thing: Barbies aren’t the only thing she plays with. She loves Legos. And puzzles. And Goldie Blox. And art projects. And puppet shows. And music and reading and a whole caboodle of other things.
I grew up playing with Barbies, and so did millions – perhaps even billions – of other little girls. In fact, it would be safe to say I was obsessed with them for a good part of my childhood. Did I ever ask my mom for a Triple-F boob job because of it? No. Why? Because my mom is smart and awesome, and instilled in me healthy doses of self-esteem and self-respect.
Not everyone has great parents. I get that, too. Still, I’m willing to bet that a girl doesn’t wind up swinging from a pole while wearing Lucite heels because she played with a Barbie doll when she was 4. I’m going to wager a guess and say there are other factors and influences at play in that situation.
Let’s face it. Barbies aren’t the issue here. Society, as a whole, is promoting the sexualization of young girls at earlier and earlier ages and for reasons I can’t quite figure out, some parents seem just A-Okay with it.
We’ve got 5-year-olds in full makeup and skimpy costumes gyrating on stage to Nikki Minaj music in the name of “dance.” We give 8-year-olds smart phones with unlimited access to the Internet, and let them create Facebook pages and Instagram accounts where they can interact with male users four times their age and are shocked – SHOCKED – when something inappropriate happens. We’ve got 10-year-olds wearing booty shorts with the word “JUICY” plastered across the butt. Want to pick a fight with a doll? Go after the Bratz dolls – with their fishnet stockings and feather boas, they make Barbie look like Gloria Steinem.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that – gasp! – Barbie might even contribute to a girl’s positive self worth. In our house, we have a Barbie doctor, an artist, a horseback rider and even BARBIE PRESIDENT! Yes, their outfits may be a little snug, and they may be rocking some seriously impractical shoes, but I don’t have a problem with my little girl pretending that her Barbie doctor is seeing “patients,” or that her Barbie artist is teaching a paint class, or that Barbie horseback rider is rescuing a stranded Barbie president from the top of the couch. On her already-forming list for Christmas? Barbie gymnast. Call me crazy, but I’m fine with that.
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photo credit: Hegemony77 doll clothes via photopin cc