Barbie
she has a nifty little slogan. she is pretty and every girl I know grew up loving her.so why did I hate barbie from the start?
I wasn't a feminist at three. Or even twelve. Maybe not even now, I don't really know. I didn't have a problem with the fact that barbie has impossible physical dimensions, or that she was completely unreal. there's just something about barbie that has creeped me out my entire life.
I knew who barbie was. I knew all the other girls liked barbie, liked dressing barbie, liked playing barbie, wanted to be barbie. by that point, I would rather have been cyndi lauper or whitney houston or punky brewster, and barbie was bland and boring compared to my idols. frankly, barbie is boring.
of course, she did serve me well. I received a few barbies for birthday presents. some were thrown out. one was bartered for our brownie lesson on trading goods for other goods. that barbie raked in the best loot.
my friend terrin had many barbies. we used to burn their hair. and once, in fourth grade, we cut up barbie with a ginsu knife. we gave her, in many pieces, to this boy rob, who took the plastic baggies full of barbie with great tact.
it's funny, you know, the ginsu really works. it cut plastic barbie, and a tomato right afterward anyway!
