Today is National Barbie Day. I’d like to use this opportunity to give my sincerest thanks and gratitude to the baddest bitch that ever was. I literally played with Barbie’s until I was 15. I’d shut and lock my bedroom door, ashamed at myself while I dug out my storage bin full of Barbie’s and Barbie accessories. Well ya know what, I’m 28 now and I’m not ashamed anymore. I follow Barbie on Instagram for gods sake. But it’s cool because she hangs out with super cool bloggers and fashion designers…That’s right, she may be plastic, she may be the reason I have low self esteem but I love her anyways.
I was always trying to grow up too fast when I was a kid. I was always wishing I was 16 or 18 or 21. I was always wishing I was at the Prom or in my own apartment in Malibu or driving around in my soft top convertible. I wish I hadn’t wished so much, but that’s for a different blog on a different day. Anyways…I know people say we love Barbie because she taught little girls that we can be President or Astronauts or Vetinarians but I think I love Barbie because she let me actually just be a little girl. Plus, never once did I pretend she was President. She was always like, an actress. Duh.
Barbie let me pretend, and I sure loved to pretend. I remember before actually playing, I always had to set the scene. “Okay, we’re in Malibu and we’ve just been invited to a big fancy Ball.” Aaaand go! And her name was never actually Barbie, it was like Stacey or Courtney or Kimberly. And Ken was never Ken, yuck! It was obvs Brad or Chad or Joey (only Joey if I got stuck with the NKOTB limited edition). I’d set up the whole “apartment”, building the kitchen and bedrooms around the fake walls on my bedroom floor. If you can’t already tell, these are really fond memories. Seriously, I’m like getting a little emotional.
She had the best clothes, the best accessories and the best life. Of course this is because her life was whatever I dreamed up that day, but still. She let me be creative, in the way that I wanted to be creative. Not like making macaroni necklaces in art class because I really didn’t give a shit about that stuff. It never occurred to me that Barbie’s waist and boobs and hair was creating an unrealistic body image for girls. Probably because she’s ten inches tall and that alone kind of creates a red flag. I’m totally against the “real body” Barbie revolution happening. Sorry. It’s just that, at what point do we as human beings stop and say “this is stupid.” Ya Barbie has a tiny waist, she’s a freakin’ doll. Let’s stop blaming Barbie for the job us women should be doing. Which is empowering each other and creating our own self esteem standards. Let’s all just relax and go to the gym. Or not. Eat a pizza. Who cares. Let’s just be happy.
To this day I still have that storage bin full of Barbie’s and Barbie accessories. My three nieces play with it all now. I almost lost it a few years back when I was in Toys ‘R’ Us. The three aisles dedicated to Barbie that I remember had been reduced to half an aisle in the back corner of the store by the bathrooms. Poor Barbie. At least she still has a day dedicated to her. And 638K Instagram followers. And inspired an entire Moschino line (which I’m totally obsessed with). Lucky bitch. Thanks for everything Barbs! Xoxo 143 4Eva!!