Barbie Doesn't Suck
Who's in charge of your child's self esteem? You? Them? Or a fucking Barbie?
I guess I am one of those people that’s supposed to hate Barbie.
Her perkily balanced, proportionate breasts. Her perfect, panty covered ass. Her waspish little waist. Her flowing hair, always lacking split ends or inch long roots. Her delicately arched feet that fit gently into killer heels…but never seem to have callouses. (The bitch has magic fucking feet.) Her always made-up face. Flawless. Yeah…I am supposed to hate her.
Trouble is…I don’t.
I bought Barbie stuff for my daughter as soon as I saw them in the dreaded Wally World at a price I could afford. My mother and I would out-do each other on holidays…we bought the Barbie, the Prince, the horse-drawn carriage specific to each fairytale. The beautiful dresses, the nifty purple sports car. I never wondered if seeing Barbie and Prince Charming, together forever, would somehow change how my little girl saw the world. I never thought that having a doll with measurements that are physically unattainable (at least without surgery) would somehow make her feel inadequate as a budding woman. Nope…never even crossed my mind.
Hello? It’s a fucking doll! And if my parenting skills cannot outdo the slightly negative self-image that comes from wishing to be model-perfect with tits big enough to drag you down…then what kind of a mother am I? And is withholding a doll really going to protect my child from this viewpoint society is both victim of and party to?
I had Barbie shit when I was a little girl. I don’t think it hurt me any…I would hate my lopsided breasts no less then I do now if I had not played pretend with my perfect plastic family. I don’t think I look at my mother with scorn because she drives a truck…something Barbie would/could never do. I don’t feel guilt over my divorces because Barbie made me think that Ken (yes, actually) and I were supposed to live happily ever after.
The anti-Barbie movement is silliness and crap. An excuse for bad parenting. Blame the doll! Blame Mattel!
“Math is hard,” she said. And femi-Nazi mothers everywhere lost it. Oh no…it will teach my daughter that math is hard. It will teach my slowly blossoming Noble Peace Prize winner that math is to be avoided! Gasp! Guess what? News flash! Math IS hard. Math DOES suck. Barbie didn’t teach me that. I just know. And if your daughter doesn’t think so? If she likes math? Well then…good for you! Good for her! Barbie won’t be teaching her Algebra. Honest. (Before you think I discourage the math/science thing…I don’t. My daughter loves science…especially history, anthropology and everything Egyptian. She hates math…and is not very good at it. But I promise…it’s not because Barbie told her it was hard.)
I do, however, have one issue with Barbie. Just one. It’s the pregnant Barbie. Here’s a pic…look at it hard. Where do you think the child comes out? Does Barbie’s invisible vagina magically dilate and out poops Junior? No…not exactly. Instead a much simpler, painless childbirth method has been discovered by this rubber legged icon. (Speaking of which…I bet Ken hated the ones with those clicky, bendable knees. You know he liked his woman flexible. I digress…per my usual.) You simply pluck the engorged gut off, carefully remove the precious newborn and then place a new, improved, concave piece of flesh colored plastic into place. Poof! No stretch marks. No pain. No agony. No eternal pooch…Barbie can have a dozen kids and the bitch will still look good in jeans and a tank top. It’s a little misleading.
But I gotta tell ya…when my daughter sees blood and guts on tv she says, “Wow Mom, they sure used a lot of ketchup to make this movie.”
And if she ever gets one of those pregnant “family” Barbie Dolls, I hope she says, “Mom this is cool…but we all know it’s not even as real as ketchup.”