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Did you know Barbie turned 50 this month?  She did, really. And so I thought it would be fun to visit some of the Barbies in our house; but first, the trick was to find them. I had to part through the sea of clothes hanging on both sides of the girls’ closet, search through several boxes and finally I found them thrown haphazardly in a black crate in the corner. I could swear there was a collective sigh of relief when they saw me, as I’m sure they were pining for their old digs. I pulled off a mound of t-shirts and arranged the dolls for a photo shoot. 

Back in their heyday, this was where Barbie and her friends and family lived.  Before the clothing, ski gear, books, etc. took over, this was a plush, three-story condo full of stylish furniture (both store-bought and hand-made). I tried to dig a little deeper into the recesses of the teenager dungeon closet (where some of my own clothes go missing), thinking I might find the furniture; but wouldn’t you know it, the place was booby-trapped. I couldn’t move anything without causing a number of things to fall to the ground and/or hit me on the head; so I gave up.  Anyway, the condo was every girl’s dream Barbie house. 

Every Barbie, including the Kelly dolls, had a name and a certain place within the extended family. The girls had intricate lists and stories of what they did and how they were all related. Here’s a closer look. Note the one in the back that’s missing her head; that’s Teresa. She was quite popular until Kiki broke off her head.

The one that comes from my childhood, and who’s almost as old as me, is Casey.  She’s the one to the far right that looks like she could use a fashion makeover…kind of like me.  Mae tells me that they never called her that; instead she was “The Crazy Lady.”  Poor Casey. She and I have been through a lot over the years, but we’re both holding up okay.  We’ve needed a little fixin’: for me it was my back; for Casey, it appears to be a case of bad knees.  I really should take her to the doll doc.

Here she is sitting next to my Barbie doll case, which I inherited from a distant cousin.   

Well, in closing, it gives me great pleasure to wish Barbie a very happy 50th birthday.  Somehow I feel a little better knowing she’s a few years older than me, even if she only looks like she’s 25.  Maybe they should call her “Anti-Aging Barbie” since she seems to be stuck in a time warp or something…not that I’m jealous or have a body image complex or anything.