Well, all the girls are talking about her. Kate started it, Melanie wrote up a snazzy manifesto, and now I want to be in the Cool Kids Club, so – let’s talk about Barbie.
I, myself, a woman in the twenty-first century, dislike Barbie and hate Disney Princesses.
Melanie’s Toy Manifesto pretty much sums up all of my preferences, toy-wise: less is more; natural is better than plastic; open-ended is better than one-use-only; batteries are of the devil.
But we all have to choose our hills upon which we will die a death by glitter suffocation, and mine is not the Barbie hill, and this metaphor is really not working out the way I envisioned it.
Even though we live in a community in which homeschooling is quite common and not seen as particularly offbeat or close-minded, it’s still a thing that makes my kids different from most other kids their age. They don’t really care about that yet, nor do they have much awareness of peer pressure. But it’s coming, and I try to limit our counter-cultural choices to things that really, really matter to us as a family.
Thus, when my daughter asked if she could buy some Disney Princess Barbies with her money that she’d saved up – well, the value of saving up money for a purchase trumped the value of “don’t substitute total saccharine nonsense for the profound and poetic imagery of traditional fairy tales and also her bosom is disproportionate to her torso.” I mean, I could just say, “in our family, we don’t play with Barbies,” but the natural response would be “that’s because you are a grownup and my brothers are boys.” This girl is a savvy negotiator.
So then I could explain why we don’t play with Barbie, and thereby introduce my daughter to all the aspects of Barbie that she’s completely oblivious to.
Plus, I played with Barbie. I think every analytical mom has a Barbie story. Mine goes like this: I had Western Barbie. She had an awesome white sparkly jumpsuit with a black stripe down the leg. She was ready for a duet with Kenny Rogers, and she winked when you pressed a button on the back. The button broke and I went back to my Tinker Toys. Any issues with body image that I have are unrelated to that brief interlude in 1983.
Plus plus, most women I know played with Barbie, and none of them have surgical enhancements as a result. I’m not up for informing our family and friends that the toy most of them cherished at one point is verboten in our household. We are already weird enough.
On the other hand, as many of the commenters on Kate’s post opined, Bratz are totally not okay. I mean, they are NAMED BRATZ. I’m thinking that will be an easy one to explain to my daughter, should the subject arise. “We don’t buy toys named after mean behavior.” (Thank goodness Garbage Pail Kids are off the market…as far as I know).
We all have our lines that we draw in the sand – this is okay; that’s not something we allow. The lines are just in different places. So, your mileage may vary, but that’s how we roll in our handmade European wooden blocks that could be a car through the power of a child’s imagination, if only you people would step away from the Hot Wheels and see how awesome this block set is. I’m talking to you, short stuff.
4 Comments
from scotch meg
I do agree about picking your battles. Plus, it is possible that Barbie will come and go quickly. My older daughter had a YEAR OF BARBIE when she was four. All Barbie, all the time, birthday, Christmas, that was all she wanted. And then it was over. No more Barbie. Barbie clothes raided for Beanie Babies and otherwise completely devalued for the duration of her childhood. My younger daughter, worshipping the older one, never, ever touched a Barbie in play. She had to be taught not to express her dismay if she happened to be given a Barbie for a birthday present from a Barbie-loving friend.
Of course, it may have had something to do with the fact that my girls never played Barbies with their friends… don't know why. Maybe the other moms were better Barbie-screeners than I was. Or maybe my daughters were good friend-screeners. I certainly can't take the credit.
I think for me it's easier to draw the line at Barbie because I never, ever had a Barbie or any Barbie accessories. My mom definitely held that line: In our family we didn't do Barbies.
Barbie for me has always been an alien being and I've never understood her allure. I can't remember ever wanting her, except perhaps a glimmer of not wanting to be different than the other girls who all had her. But for me Barbie herself never had any attraction.
(Also keep in mind I've not yet got a girl who's old enough to beg for one. So this is all theoretical.)
My ex-wife (pre-reversion non-sacramental marriage) cut her Barbies' hair and made them habits, whimples, rosaries, and scapulars. Mind you, she was raised as Baptist, but she was enthralled with the Catholic Church. Unfortunately, that fascination didn't carry into her adult life.
Wow. Thanks for this. I read your post and clicked to read Melanie's too. So refreshing to read that other moms have ideas like this. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one. Fortunately, my husband shares similar ideas. But otherwise, wow, it can really feel lonely. Thanks for the encouragement.