so i thought i'd forget about my stomach pain and frustration over health care in massachusetts for a minute and post this embarassing photo of me at five years old. it was christmas day, 1980, probably at my grannie's house. i was so excited to get this little box of barbie outfits, as you can see. why? i have no idea. for some reason, they drove me over the edge with kiddie excitement.
here's the thing about me and the Barbie outfits. i never actually dressed my Barbie in them. i played with my Barbie a lot, but i always treated her like she was a museum artifact. i was so careful not to mess up her hair or get anything on her. unlike my sister who would color her Barbie's hair with markers and use crayons to paint on lipstick, i kept my Barbie in pristine condition. seriously, how weird is that? i don't know why i treated my Barbie this way, but i did.
so back to the clothes.
my paternal grandmother would spend all summer knitting and crotcheting little Barbie skirts, pants, shirts, and coats for me in all colors and styles you can imagine. she would also splurge and buy me some pre-packaged ones from toys-r-us and add them to the mix. i loved every single thing she ever made me. so much that i would organize them by color, or by style, or by season (yes, i was THAT dorky!) but never actually put them on my Barbie. once in a blue moon i would, but the majority of the time i would just look at the clothes, organize them, and put them away. when my family went to the Amish country on summer vacation, i bought a pretty yellow and white dress for my Barbie, complete with a bonnet and matching shoes (which cost me my entire allowance), only to keep it in the brown paper bag that it was placed in after i bought it. i'd take it out and look at it, but then pack it right back up and put it away. i don't remember ever dressing my Barbie in it. ever.
why exactly was i so anal rententive about my Barbie and her clothing? it sure didn't translate over into real life. i'm a big, fat slob who could care less about what i wear on a daily basis. if it doesn't restrict my movement or breathing, i'll wear it. i don't even care if it doesn't match. i've been known to wear stripes and polka-dots together. so sue me. and you should see my closet. it's like a bomb went off two years ago and i never cleaned up the rubble.
the only think i can think of as to why i guarded my Barbie and her clothes with my life was because i wanted to be like her. i wanted all the fancy little dresses, the long blonde hair, the closet full of high heeled shoes, the fabulous townhouse and car. not to mention the buff boyfriend who was good in the sack (yes, even at that young age, i was consummating Barbie and Ken's relationship when no one was looking). of course, i'm the complete opposite now and could care less about material crap like shoes and cars and automobile status (hello... my husband rides a bike!). but as a child, i wanted it all. but i think i also just wanted to fit in, too.
i had a very active imagination as a child, and as you can see from this photo, i was also a pretty good actress. also, for a long time i wanted to go to RISD for fashion design, so i think this is another reason why i treasured my grannie's Barbie creations so much. i wanted to make my own and pack them away in the suitcase i used specifically for Barbie clothes.
once i learned how to sew i started making Barbie her own outfits, but by that time, my mind had slipped into the gutter and i dressed her like a street whore. ahh, that's more like it.
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3 comments:
Aesome, awesome photo.
heh. thanks!
adorable photo. Saw you on SJ's blog and we used to have a bunny rabbit named, yes, you guessed it - Honey Bunny.
Barbie was perfect. The pressure even back then was too much and must have been why you couldn't "mess her up." Bitch that she is she didn't mind messing all the rest of us up.
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