Thursday, July 19, 2012
go ahead, have another donut
I looked for an image of the 70s Barbie, from the time I played with Barbies, for a side by side comparison. Boy, am I sorry. Google imaging "barbie torso 70s" is a NSFW kinda thing. Apparently, in answer to the girls who fretted over their own less than hourglass figures, the manufacturer changed her body type.
I have no problem with that. I mean, who cares, right? As a child, it never once occurred to me to look at a doll and think, "wow, I hope my bazooms are that freakishly large when I grow up! Surely, this is an ideal I should live up to." Nope. Not once. I thought about how creepy it was when you accidentally hyperextended her knees, or how frickin' losable her pink kitten-heeled mules were. You'd get them with a new outfit and they'd last one day, two days, tops. They fell off and mysteriously absorbed into the carpet.
I eventually gave up my Barbie playin' days when I became a little too interested in Barbie and Ken's "alone time." Even after Ken's head broke off and it was lost.