"The notion that such persons are gay of heart and carefree is curiously untrue. They lead, as a matter of fact, an existence of jumpiness and apprehension. They sit on the edge of the chair of Literature. In the house of Life they have the feeling that they have never taken off their overcoats."
- James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Just call me a doll.

I'm not a girlie-girl. I've never been that girl who could spend hours getting her makeup and clothes and nails Per-Fect for the day, then walk out into Life like the Diva she was meant to be. I was the girl who tried but didn't have the patience to fuss over herself. Now that I've grown older, I'm the gal who tosses on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and pulls her hair under a ball cap, then calls it good enough.

That being said, I have a confession to make: I collect Barbies.

I never intended to collect them, although I did have one as a child. It's all this chick's fault (see below). Meet Enchanted Evening Barbie.

I saw her at Toys R Us years ago, when we were still shopping for Marcus (to be fair, we went to the Hot Wheels department for him). Maybe I was feeling older and waxing nostalgic, but she reminded me of my old Barbie. I had retrieved my old doll that year from my parents' storage. She was wearing some kind of weird sackcloth, so I bought her a new outfit, and gave her a French twist to hide the fact that I had cut her hair at some point.

But look at her face - doesn't she look like Enchanted Evening Barbie?

On a whim, I asked for E. E. Barbs for Christmas, and Dale granted my wish. He also did an amazing thing. He decided, based on my single Christmas request, that I collect Barbies. So every Christmas, I get a Barbie.

I was hoping for tix to Paris with April in Paris Barbie, but no luck.

They're mostly the high-end dolls with names like Dance Until Dawn Barbie and April in Paris Barbie. Some of them are really high-end, like this dame:

Oh, yeah, that's Cruella de Ville. I like to let her stand next to these two.

Glinda and Galadriel.

It makes me laugh.

A few years ago, Dale asked for a G.I. Joe. Always the overachiever, I looked on eBay and found...

Yes - the Colin Powell G.I. Joe!

For a long time, Colin shared shelf-space with my girls. He looked very stern and a little disapproving of Hard Rock Barbie, but he couldn't say much because, as it turns out, G.I. Joe is shorter than the B-girls.


And now that I have fifteen girls, he looks like he's in the Land of the Amazons, so I moved him to a more respectable shelf. It was either that or look for some teeny platform shoes.

Even though I'm not a girlie-girl, I totally covet these dresses.

Isn't this a cute little flapper number?
Well, of course - who DOESN'T want to dress up like Glinda?

Have you amassed any collections that surprise you?


Tameri Etherton said...

Love it! I never knew, which is kind of weird considering we have some of the same B girls. That is just way too funny about Colin G.I. Joe being shorter. I wonder why... Hmmm.

I tell my husband all the time I get the dolls for the costumes. They are magnificent! Can you imagine the eyesight those seamstresses must have? Yikes. The next time you come over I'll introduce you to a few of my favorite ladies. We should have tea. :)

Gayle Carline said...

Too bad Thor couldn't join us for tea - with my B girls and yours, he'd have quite a harem.

I neglected to mention, with GI Colin, that for his doll-like stature, he has HUGE feet. The funniest part of this (for me) is that I'm kind of dying to confirm that, like most boy dolls, he is NOT anatomically correct, but I'm too intimidated to check! I mean, it's Colin Freakin' Powell, even if he IS in diminutive GI Joe form.

Tameri Etherton said...

I'm going to let you have your happy Gayle dreams of your Colin Freakin' Powell, but I've seen what Ken has in his boy pants and girlfriend, there is nothing down there. Nope. Nada. Nothing. I can't imagine they would do that to Colin Powell, though. It had to be in his contract or something.

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