Musings in the 'Burbs

Barbie dolls represent - in equal measures - all that is wrong with the moral and spiritual fibre of society; the objectification of women; and the gratuitous sexualisation of children’s toys.

Bullshit! They’re awesome.

My nearly seven year old daughter has just gone totally batshit crazy obsessed over Barbies and I couldn’t be happier. I tried to force them onto introduce her to the world of Babs, Ken and Skipper (remember her?) about 18 months ago. It didn’t stick and that, frankly, was hard to come to terms with.

When I was a kid, Barbies were my thing. I was queen of the epic Barbie marathon session. Honestly, my next door neighbour Sylvia and I would dedicate entire weekends - dawn til dusk to the adventures of our little blonde-haired, big boobed play things. (Geoffrey Edelsten, AMIRITE!)

Yes, I know their fantastic, plastic little body proportions are possibly unrealistic and a tad biologically impossible.

But calm the eff down haters!.

They’re dolls. No ribs or internal organs required. They're not made to human scale, but whatevs. Barbies are like The Sims but in analogue. They are fun, cute, fashionable and they stir up those precious kiddy imagination juices (“Imagination, life is your creation.” Too true, Aqua. Sage words indeed.) 

Plus, Mattel has so totally embraced multi-culturalism now. No longer limited to fair skinned bastions of the white race; Barbies can be Japanese now.

And Indian

And African

And Native American

And even German Oktoberfest beer wenches

Of course, they’re all still totally hot.

For brevity's sake, I'm leaving the topic of Barbie's edgy cousins at Monster High for another day (Gurl, don't get me started - they are fieeeerce!)

So, now I have like totes breathed a sigh of relief that my daughter has seen the light and embraced the magic allure of Barbie and all of her wondrous, themed, and sometimes downright random accoutrements.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not utterly blinde to the slightly cray cray side of the Barbiverse. Like, for example

Teen Pregnancy Barbie and her hot gyneo (who may or may not have knocked her up)

Pooper Scooper Barbie (definitely not a big seller in the Inner West)

Arse kicking Footsal Barbie

Oreo Barbie (my cookies bring all the Kens to the dream house)

Crack Whore Barbie

If I could issue a word of advice, dear friends it would be not to let these waywards put you off. Those bitches are out of control and their antics should not be seen to represent the rest of the fabulous Barbs clan. I only have to cast my mind over those good eggs that have brought me much joy throughout the years - from my childhood fav Rodeo Barbie (complete with Dallas, her noble steed) to Amy Winehouse Barbie (RIP) who captured my adult heart - to feel reassured that Barbie is GOOD. 

Much like real women; there is a Barbie nationality, personality and profession for everyone - and they should be cherished and adored.


PS And if that sounds a little deep, it shouldn't. They're just dollies for Malibu's sake! If you want an item of idolatry for your daughter to aspire to, just point her in the direction of someone a little more of the human persuasion - like Oprah or Amal Alamuddin or  Lady Gaga or Joan of Arc (come to think of it I think there may be Barbie versions of them anyway ...)

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