My first child came home and asked if I knew that Barbie would
never menstruate were she a real person and that, brought to life and expanded
to human height, she would tip over because of her toddler-sized feet and
Parton-sized boobs. When she brought forward this litany of anti-Barbie
slurs, I nodded in assent and talked of irrational body image, the evil of
capitalizing on idealized bodies and stuff good Moms do.
But secretly I cringed a tiny bit - maybe empathizing with poor Barbie who can't help how she was born. Or maybe just considering the bins of Barbies in the next room... could these plastic ladies really have crushed body images the world over since 1952
and made us a society of people wishing for un-articulated plastic willowy limbs and
genital-free crotches? As for me, while Barbie with her unrealistic proportions never ever crossed my childhood threshold I stocked my own kids up with a dream supply of Barbies and their coordinating attire and
animals and homes... and… I admit - I bought them ruthlessly even knowing as I did that they were images of destruction.
In the same vein - why, knowing as I do, that having anything
mildly resembling a weapon around the house will create a violent and deadly race
of human children, did I create an actual set of drawers labeled "the arsenal" full of Nerf and non-Nerf type swords, cowboy guns and plastic daggers? Before you say that this is all a side effect of being a
crap-for-a-crunchy-parent, consider my thinking. Because, believe it or
not, there was a tiny bit of that in the shopping frenzy...
You see, Barbies are sort of fun. And they come in all sorts of color shades and tons of different careers.
And weapons are also kind of awesome. There are a lot of things around that we are supposed to look at with disdain - barbies, swords, sugar, the color pink... But I just refuse to be a hater of even those most detestable and pigeon-holing items. I refuse because I truly believe that longing for and idealizing a Barbie
or a Nerf gun or a head of pink hair is far worse than having those things and being able
to enjoy them along with a bunch of other chubbier and
less violent items.
Barbie
is a ridiculously out of proportion plastic lady who doesn't age and rocks a
killer wardrobe. Our kids' body images can't be so frail that Barbie's
menstruation free hot bod and long waxen locks inspire dark fear in a parent’s heart
- there are lots and lots of scarier things out there I'm afraid. And they aren't made of foamy pellets or plastic. I for one vote that we save our staunch prohibitions for drugs and premarital sex. Or whatever.