Barbie
“We girls can do anything.”
If toys are a gold mine, then for girls, Barbie is the mother lode.
The Queen Bee, in other words. The Head Honcha. The Great One. The
Almighty Buxom One. Her Highness. Her Majesty. The Chairwoman of the
Toy Board. If you played with her, and it’s hard to believe you didn’t,
the mere mention of her name probably evokes a clouds-separating,
angels-bursting-into-song type of effect. It was many a glorious hour
that we spent with her in our clutches, after all, hours that could be
added up to make days, days that could make weeks—that's how endless her allure and our
commitment to doting on and preening over and playing with and dressing
up. To all of you grown-up little boys and girls out there (but
especially you ladies): bow your heads for a moment or two, and kindly
dispense with any non-Barbie-related thoughts that dare dart through
your synapses. It's tribute time, friends...with a little history time
thrown in.
In a 1950’s West German tabloid comic strip, there lived a buxom
blonde character named “Lili.” She was popular in two dimensions, so it
figured that three dimensions—especially given those
hip/waist/chest measurements—would suit her as well. Lili, thus,
stepped off of the page and became a small doll, but with her heavy
makeup and suggestive wardrobe, she wasn’t for kids. Instead of toy
stores, she lined the shelves at adult novelty shops, and became a
popular gag gift that men would give to each other at bachelor parties.
In the States, meanwhile, Ruth Handler (the co-founder, with her
husband Elliott, of a fledgling toy company called Mattel) watched her
daughter Barbara play with paper dolls and baby dolls...and pondered.
What about a doll that served as more of a role model for a little
girl? What about a doll that was built to look decidedly older than its owner-a change of pace from all the infants and young children who colonized doll world?
Borrowing from frälein Lili’s physique, Ruth and Elliott turned
Ruth's ideas into a reality, and introduced their brunette Barbie doll
at New York’s Toy Fair in 1959. Her full name was “Barbie Millicent
Roberts” by the way, and her first name honored the Handlers’ daughter.
Barbie was billed as a teenage fashion model—she was dressed in a black
and white one-piece bathing suit and pumps, her ponytail swirled, her
eyes glanced sideways and her brows arched. And her figure? Well, as
the comic books would have said…va-va-voom!
But alas, reviews were mixed. Girls loved Barbie, but their
concerned mothers, used to the sight of their daughters cradling little
baby dolls and pushing them around in strollers, thought her much too
sophisticated (read: she had big breasts). So in response to this
wringing of hands, Mattel promised in the savviest of advertising
campaigns that owning a Barbie would help a girl mature into a
well-adjusted, elegant young lady…that Barbie was the perfect paradigm
for what little girls should want to grow up to be. She had
traffic-stopping looks, apparent wealth and she was always the center
of plenty of attention. A teensy superficial, you say? Oh, save the
high-mindedness for Chutes and Ladders. This is Barbie we’re talking about, and it’s all in good doll fun.
Longtime Mattel fashion designer Charlotte Johnson didn't let
Barbie stay in that black and white bathing suit for long, and the
early 1960’s found Our Bodacious Beloved in ensembles such as the “Gay
Parisienne” and “Easter Parade”—inspired by Paris runway couture. A bit
later, when Jackie Kennedy was exerting her sense of fashion class,
Barbie’s wardrobe followed the First Lady's lead. Her ponytail gave way
to a chin-length Dutch-boy, and there was pink satin abound. Her
boyfriend Ken, who was named after the Handlers’ son, glided suavely
onto the scene—a half-inch taller than his sweetie, and available with
brown or blonde hair.
Soon though, to take some of the wind out of those sex symbol
allegations (if only we all could be accused of that once in a while!),
Mattel introduced Midge, Barbie’s cherub-faced best friend, and
Skipper, her wholesome little sister. In 1964, Barbie’s eyes opened and
closed for the first (and last) time, and in ’65, new Barbie dolls
stood (and walked now!) on legs that bent. She shimmied around
in colorful mod outfits during the late 60’s, wearing that British
Invasion fashion influence on her sleeve and everywhere else. Her newly
made-over face looked more youthful, her hair longer, cosmetics softer
and more natural, and her new Twist ‘N Turn torso finally allowed her
to sit down and take a load off. And boy, did she need to, because she
spent many a night shaking her plastic thing out on the dance floor
with her very first celebrity pal, a doll named Twiggy—based on the
eponymous real-life (and real famous) model. In 1968, the Talking
Barbie hit the scene—girls just pulled the string at the back of Barb's
neck to hear six cheery Barbie phrases.
Through the 1970’s, Barbie’s fashion scheme was a grab bag of
trends—trends that could only be produced by a unique decade indeed.
Inside that grab bag were disco glam, a “prairie” look, a “granny”
dress and a beach bag full of sunny California casual-wear. New
inductees to the product line included Malibu Barbie and Growin’ Pretty
Hair Barbie, which boasted a magic ponytail which an owner could pull
out if long tresses were so desired. Barbie also became the proud new
owner of bendable wrists, elbows, and ankles—thank goodness, too,
because Mattel launched a very aggressive Olympic Games tie-in campaign
in ’75 and ’76, wherein the Gold Medal Dolls (a skier, a gymnast, a
skater, etc.) paraded proudly onto toy shelves everywhere.
If you didn’t go in for jock types, there was also a collection of
new career Barbies who punched that figurative toy clock as doctors,
nurses, ballerinas and flight attendants—all appropriately outfitted
and accessorized, of course! There were more developments in the facial
feature department too. Now her eyes looked straight ahead, instead of
coyly off to one side, and the debut of 1977’s Superstar Barbie showed
a friendlier smile and brighter, more cheerfully painted eyes. Ms.
Superstar had to look extra nice, because when she pranced and
twirled on that plastic catwalk (via her lucky owner's remote control),
jaws dropped to the floor in envy—and only genuine geniality would ever
bring them back up.
By the 1980’s, those little girls who owned the very first Barbies
were all grown up. And as grown-ups, they had two things: disposable
income and a longing to reconnect with the innocence and frill of their
youths. Mattel brilliantly tapped into both, and in 1986, issued the
Blue Rhapsody Barbie in all her porcelain glory. At this point,
collecting Barbies as a hobby (and sometimes, as an obsession) began in
earnest. The hardcore Barbie devotees had been hoarding the ‘play line’
all along (that's technical name for all that the wondrous loot found
in that wondrous pink packaging, by the way), but now, both these
old-timers and the wave of new collectors had special edition dolls to
get their hands on.
Two particularly impressive consumer flurries that were to sweep
through doll shops and toy stores came in 1988, with the unpredictably
successful Happy Holiday series, and later in 1994, when the first
vintage reproduction Barbie and accompanying gift set made its debut on
Miss Thing’s 35th Anniversary. The Official Barbie Collector’s Club was
founded in 1997, and there are websites galore—because amassing the
little ladies is a serious business and often, a serious art.
Though new trends in collecting were remarkable, we don't want to
lose sight of what was happening with the regular edition Barbies
during the 80’s (though special edition or not, as we all know, Barbie
has never been “regular”). Mattel introduced African-American and
Hispanic dolls, and upon their success, issued an International
Collection as well. Early on, this line contained just Italian,
Parisian, and Royal U.K. lovelies, but more nationalities and
infinitely more loveliness would arrive each passing year. The early
80’s also saw the first Barbie Convention; the brand new, boot-stomping
Western Barbie and her high-steppin’ horse named Dallas; the Paint the
Town Red Barbie, whose crimson gown was based on the one worn by the
new First Lady, Nancy Reagan. In 1984, over a thousand revelers
gathered for Barbie’s 25th Anniversary bash in New York. Andy Warhol
was among the guests—his portrait of the doll icon, which would top the
Barbie art exhibit that soon toured the nation, would be coming soon.
And those of you who were gadget-minded and gaga over Barbie at the same time, know that she booted up her first computer in 1985.
In the late 80’s and early 90’s, nighttime soap operas were all the
rage, and famous designers clamored to dress the shows’ diva stars. In
1990, perhaps eager to outfit a lady who never complained and never
gained weight, Bob Mackie designed his first Barbie gown, paving the
sequined road for many more to follow: Yves Saint Laurent, Christian
Dior, Valentino, Perry Ellis, Oscar de la Renta, Ralph Lauren, Calvin
Klein, Anne Klein, Byron Lars, Vera Wang and Donna Karan among them.
Since Barbie’s best-selling years will often see the introduction of
more than a hundred new outfits, the amount of cloth that Mattel tears
through is no small thing. The company has actually become one of the
largest makers of women’s clothes in the U.S.—number crunchers don’t
mind that the ‘women’ happen to be synthetic.
Gorgeous lines like the Hollywood Legends Collection (Barbie as
Scarlet O’Hara or the red-shoed Dorothy, for example) and the
Children’s Collector Series (Barbie as fairy tale damsels like
Rapunzel) came in the mid-90’s. In 1995, Mattel celebrated its 50th
year in business. What had started as a cottage industry (though run
out of a garage, not a cottage) had grown into a toy-making behemoth,
thanks mostly to Barbie. Today, she’s the most collected doll in the
world, but it’s not as if she’s just a collector’s item. Girls continue
to adore her, and Mattel sells over a million new dolls a week. All
told, over the last forty years, they’ve managed to put their buxom
dolls in the hands of ninety percent of all American girls. Ninety percent. Repeat that number to yourself a few times over—because it’s indisputable proof that she’s nothing short of a cultural icon.
Barbie never married and never had kids (Skipper was Mattel’s smart
concession to fans who wanted her to be a mom). Because of the
sprawling range of her vocations, her hobbies and sports interests, her
nationalities, friends, accessories, connections to pop culture figures
and celebrities from both the big and small screen, Barbie is literally
impossible to pigeon-hole or grow bored with. Mattel has made sure that
there is always a new doll to admire on the shelves, always an outfit
or a prop that you don’t yet own for your beloved, but that seem like
must-haves. There are Barbie magazines, books and newsletters. There
are public museums and legendary private collections. There is
unadulterated devotion, from all around the world.
All of this—her role model concept, her physical re-inventions, the
trail of fashion, the parent company’s savvy product development and
advertising—all of this works together to make Barbie not only a
phenomenally high-selling, decade-spanning toy success, but a permanent
presence in our toy consciousness. Practically every little boy out
there has routinely kidnapped his sisters’ prized Barbie, and if he had
possession long enough, might have cut her hair or stolen a quick peek
at what was beneath her sweater, or most scandalous of all, played with
the Barbie for a moment or two (if no one was else was looking, of
course—that Barbie can be fun for boys too is a well-kept boy secret).
Girls, no matter their age, can still journey down the Barbie aisle in
the toy store and get the chills. It’s not the store’s hard-working air
conditioner either—it’s the way the light dances off those shiny pink
boxes. The temptation we had as kids to pick up the boxes and peer
longingly inside—that’s still there. And it’s hard not to twirl around
once or twice in the aisle, as we try to take all that pink glory
in—the recollection of all those hours we spent dressing and talking
and moving for her—it can make us forget that we're in public, and that
a grown woman isn't really supposed to "twirl" anymore. Or are we?
The Barbie aisle goose bumps, the everything’s-right-with-the-world
feeling that came with tearing a corner of the gift wrapping open and
catching a flash of pink—how many other toys have that kind of visceral
effect? Barbie bedazzles, every time. So to all of you, to the young
and old, to owners past and present, to the full-fledged collectors and
the parents and the grown-up boy who remembers waving the doll just out
of his sister’s desperate-to-have-her-back reach…let’s hear it for
Barbie. Three cheers, a glass raised, wild applause or a quiet moment
of thanks—whatever form your tribute takes, one phrase should be
unanimous: All Hail The Plastic Queen.
