The Barbie doll turns fifty this year. Hard to believe, isn't it? I mean, she doesn't look a day over twenty. Must be all that plastic surgery.
Barbie is many things: a little work of art, an icon, an emblem, even a bellwether of economic health. She's incredibly controversial and has been since her debut. Critics attack her impossible dimensions, her sex appeal, her obsession with accessories, and even her voice, which once said "Math is hard." I can understand why some parents ban her from the playroom, fearing she will be a bad influence on their young daughters.
But, at the risk of being asked to hand in my feminist card, I'd like to offer a few words in Barbie's defense. While growing up I had plenty of Barbies and even a random Skipper and a couple of Kens with different color hair. (Ken was lame, though, his legs kept breaking. He was lucky to have Doctor Barbie around to patch him up!) My favorite playthings were books and plush animals, but Barbie was next on the list and I had the house, the car, and the airplane. My mother--bless her!--even made Barbie size clothes, so my dolls didn't have to settle for off-the-rack. They had couture!
One of the most common condemnations of Barbie is that she inflicts a negative body image on the girls who play with her. I certainly suffered from negative body image as a child, but I didn't get it from Barbie. My shame and hurt came from cruel elementary school peers who hurled the epithet 'fatty' and 'retard' at me. It also came when I realized that the patterns my mother used to make my clothes were labeled as 'Chubbies.' Obviously, pattern companies weren't very concerned with young girls' self-esteem in the late 1960s! Long after I put my Barbies away, I received destructive advice from other teenage girls---"If you'd only lose ten pounds the boys might like you." That instruction was always followed by "And you need to be quiet too---act dumb if you want a date." Barbie may have possessed impossible curves, but she never called me a name or asked me to be an idiot.
If anything Barbie encouraged fantasies about an adulthood of endless possibilities. My Barbie flew her own airplane, zoomed around in her own sports car, and owned a 'dream house.' She rode horses and explored the Grand Canyon. (Admittedly it was just the space between two beds, but I had a great imagination!) Since I liked science fiction, Barbie booted Captain Kirk from his chair and commanded the Enterprise. My budding interested in history meant that Barbie also wore long dresses and issued orders which all the other dolls (especially Ken and his posse) were expected to obey.
I gave away my Barbies in a fit of charity years ago, but since then I've timidly ventured into the world of collecting and I now have five Barbies on a shelf in my office. They're all historical figures representing the costumes and hairstyles of different cultures and time periods: Ancient Greece, Royal Korea, Tudor England, Renaissance Italy, and Imperial Russia. I wish I'd started earlier, so I could have snagged Viking Barbie! The little ladies are not only an amusing conversation piece, they also help me make a visual point during my fashion and clothing interim. In the 18th century, seamstresses and tailors often displayed their wares by dressing dolls. In America, sophisticated colonial dames were anxious to see what the French dolls were wearing, so they wouldn't fall behind their European counterparts in style. Barbie has ancestors!
I suspect that despite the cultural criticism and the recession, Barbie will be around for another fifty years and maybe even forever. After all, she's an independent adult, not a helpless baby, and she can be anything she wants to be, from a teacher to a businesswoman to an astronaut. There's no 'right' way to play with Barbie. Because she can model so many aptitudes and attitudes, she can inspire a sense of choice and possibility in kids. Some of my friends had Barbie families. My Barbies never changed diapers, pushed strollers, or donned aprons; they were much too busy blasting through space or jumping aboard time machines.
And best of all, there's no wedding ring permanently molded to Barbie's finger. But if she should decide to tie the knot with Ken, she's got decades of designer wedding gowns to choose from!
