I knew the shape of the box. I could feel it, even though it was wrapped in the traditional Christmas paper and technically looked like all of the other boxes underneath the tree. But my sister and I, we just knew what would be in those 3-inch thick boxes. It wasn’t the right shape for a clothing box and it certainly wasn’t long enough to be anything but hold the perfect 11.5” doll. The only question would be — which Barbie was it?
And it could be anything, anything at all, because Barbie could do and be anything. At least, that’s what the commercials told us. But the proof was in the actual doll. She did absolutely everything. I mean, if you couldn’t find a Barbie that did what you were looking for, you just had to wait a year and it would come out.
Barbie was a doctor and a vet when women were criticized for seeking jobs. She was an International traveler and celebrator of ethnic traditions when America was “white.” She was a celebrated business woman when women were fighting to move up from secretary. She even ran for President in 1992!
She ventured into outer space in 1965, way before women could even dream of such a thing. She could carry off a southern belle look but then lead her rock ‘n’ roll band with Dana, Diva, Derek and DeeDee, too. She was a Gibson girl who actively served in every branch of the military — before women themselves. She played major league baseball before Title IX.
Although always impeccably dressed, Barbie has always been an activist.
Through subtle (and not so subtle) costumes, Barbie has done everything. Okay, her ski outfits have always been a little too “snow bunny” for me (the white leggings with the fur trimmed boots) but so totally and unapologetically her. But she also made it to the Olympics in 1975, so I guess she could wear whatever she wanted to in the 1980s.
I haven’t seen this new movie, but I have played with Barbie dolls since before I can remember. And my Barbies never had squeaky voices that sounded like they had an IQ of 15. My Barbie did whatever she wanted to do, wore what she wanted to wear and let the consequences be damned. She was a strong, independent woman in a world where women (myself included) were struggling to find themselves.
Call me naive, but I never noticed her big boobs or the fact that her waist was ridiculously tiny. I didn’t care that her feet were never flat (except that it made it hard to keep her shoes from falling off and getting lost). As a child, I was more concerned about her adventures with her little sister, Skipper, and the My Little Ponies than anything else. I mean, how many times can someone have to rescue their little sister from He-Man’s arch nemesis, Skeletor?
As I got older, Barbie became a friend rather than a plaything. I collected Barbies for a while, perhaps because my parents weren’t ready for me to grow up but also because I didn’t want to give up on the dream that my life could be whatever I wanted it to be.
When I graduated from high school, Barbie came out as a Star Trek fan. I had never told anyone outside of the family how obsessed I was with Trek, but I bought my first uniform that year and it’s still my cosplay. If super popular Barbie was public about Trek, I could be, too.
I love Barbie.
I still have one Barbie at my house, the 2000 Hanae Mori Barbie who wore a pink satin underneath black butterfly lace. I have no idea why, out of all the barbies I ever owned, this one stays with me. But, she does. Maybe it’s the edginess of the black over the pink, making her look elegant and classic but still super punk. I don’t know. But for some reason, this Barbie sums up all the barbies I ever had, from Peaches & Cream to the Holiday Series.
I touched an original Barbie once. My not-so mother-in-law had one when she was little and let me look through her Barbie box. It was amazing to see that black and white swimsuit from 1959. It was like reaching out to another world, a world where women had yet to learn that they could do anything they wanted, to be anything at all — and still be the same person. Barbie showed us that a woman didn’t have to choose, she didn’t have to be one thing — a housewife — she could be everything. She could have it all. Or not. Whatever she dreamed, she could choose to be.
And that message resonates stronger than ever over time: We girls can do anything, right, Barbie?
Merisa Sherman is a long-time Killington resident, local realtor, bartender and KMS Coach. She can be reached at [email protected].
