The Bad Business of Being Barbie

What I know about Barbie I mostly learned from raising two rambunctious and unconventional daughters, who are now well into their teens. I remember that there are many colors, sizes and vocations for Barbies, and that they all looked like they could pass for good Presbyterian girls. A decent role model, I thought. Nothing wrong with that. Although they are still all rather anorexic-looking, as far as I’m concerned.

But every little girl must have one or two or ten as they entered little-ladyhood, and mine were no exception.

My daughters tended to play rough with those dolls. The Barbies at our house seemed to get more haircut action than high romance, as my little girls discovered the strange power that accompanied a pair of scissors and a willing head of hair. After a few weeks, all of the dolls would eventually end up stripped naked with their shorn heads removed, at which point arms and legs were liberally and creatively mixed and matched into the open sockets of a growing sisterhood of freaks. That was how my girls played with Barbies.

Apparently Mattel, the maker of Barbie, is doing well and sales are surging at a 12% clip as of Q1. 

You go, girl.

This post is part of a group project to celebrate the publication of my good friend (and Senior Editor over at High Calling Blogs) Marcus Goodyear’s amazing new poetry book entitled, “Barbies at Communion.”  In honor of this, Tweetspeak Poetry is giving away a signed copy of the book, and you too can be part of the fun! Just follow this link and post your own Barbie-story.