Confessions of a Barbie Doll

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I dug up this piece I'd written over 20 years ago. At the time I'd hoped to publish it, and after some snail mail back-and-forth correspondence with Mattel to use the Barbie and Mattel trademarks, permission was denied. Guess you can see why...

BTW, I shared the piece with a newfound friend and she said, "Your Barbie sounds just like Paris Hilton!!!"


CONFESSIONS OF A BARBIE DOLL

Hi, I'm Barbie. Actually, that's not my full name, but that's what my friends call me. Ken, Skipper, Madge, Farrah, Brooke, and Mr. T. all know me as Barbie. And if they really want to get my attention, they call, "Hey, Barbie Doll!" That's sure to make my head turn.

I lead what I think is a pretty exciting life for a young person, and I have lots of friends. Ken has been my steady boyfriend for quite a number of years now. We've talked about marriage, but have decided that we're not yet ready or mature enough for it. (Besides, Mattel has not yet designed a wedding chapel.)

Before I met Ken, I had a thing going with a soldier -- a G.I. His name was Joe; I never did find out what his last name was. But it didn't really matter -- I like men in uniform and I was very attracted to his army fatigues. We met on a blind date that Madge had arranged and we began dating after that.

The relationship didn't last too long because Joe always had to leave town for overseas missions and we began to drift apart. I had suggested that he try to get a job at NASA, but too many people had the same idea, and no more applications for astronauts were being accepted. Joe decided that he was meant to be a G.I. rather than just a suburban type and we broke up. I also had to give him back his dog tags, which he had let me wear as long as we were dating.

And then there was Ken. He was everything I'd ever wanted in a man: he was tall, handsome, wealthy, athletic and cultured. He reminds me, even to this day, of Oliver Barrett, the character that Ryan O'Neal played in the movie Love Story.

Like I mentioned before, I lead a pretty exciting life. I LOVE shopping for clothes and have a wardrobe like you wouldn't believe. My problem is that I can't bear to throw anything out. I got closets-full of clothes that I might've worn for one season and never again. But now, that might change because some of the styles are back in. I'm so glad that I can wear my patent leather shoes and purses again and not stand out in a crowd. The same goes for my plaid skirts, my leather bomber jackets, my fun furs and my ear muffs.

As for my hairstyle, well, that's changed with the times as well I've had it long, short, crimped, curly, braids a la Bo Derek and a fluffy hairdo like my friend Farrah. Maybe I should have taken a hint from my friend Madge, who believes that her pageboy style will never be out of fashion.

Most people think I'm pretty. I guess I am. Sometimes I'm even considered glamorous. People are pretty envious of my peaches-and-cream complexion, my natural blonde hair and my proportioned figure. But I've worked hard to look that way and my lifestyle is regimented by beauty tips and nutrition tips that I read about in Vogue, Glamour and Mademoiselle magazines each month. Even while growing up, I had subscriptions to Young Miss, Co-Ed, Teen, and later, Seventeen magazine.

Mom's friends told me to try my hand at modelling and I took a few course at Barbizon's modelling school in the city. My picture got into some catalogues for which I modelled clothing and accessories, and I was popular for a few years. I started losing contracts and realized that a look like mine is needed in the business for only a short while. It's okay -- I learned to handle it and took a few sessions with a psychotherapist who taught me how to deal with the rejection. There were a couple of chances for a comeback last year, but I declined the offers.

These days, my purpose in life is to fill the pages of my appointment book. I sty physically, socially, and mentally active. Every afternoon, I go to aerobics classes and then work out on the Nautilus equipment with my friends Mr. T. and The Incredible Hulk. Other than aerobics and Nautilus, I swim, surf, rollerskate, skateboard, cycle and dance. When I'm not physically or socially active, I like to read. Believe it or not, I like Harlequin stories, Kahlil Gibran's works, the New York Times, do-it-yourself, and also self-improvement books. I had once considered taking up journalism, but at the end, opted against it. I figured that a journalist's job is part of a dog-eat-dog world, and I hate violence.

I haven't worked in the last few years, anyways, not since I was modelling. When I was a teen, I worked after school in a Burger King and made pocket money. But ten years ago, Grand-Daddy passed on and left his billion-dollar fortune to our family. Dad divided the money equally among us and then helped me make some wise investments with my portion. I've lived off the interest ever since from my purchases, and my real estate properties. I also bought a motor home, a dune buggy, a show-dog Afghan, and became a partner in an ice-cream shop. Three years ago, I bought a home and decorated it myself. It has even been featured in Metropolitan Home and Architectural Digest magazines. I've had some tempting offers from people who want to buy it, but I've got no intention to sell it at the moment.

Not long ago, I celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday. It was a blast. Daddy rented out a beach house with its own private beach and flew me and twenty of my closest friends there for the weekend. A mini-bus picked us up at the airport and drove us along the coast to Malibu, where we partied all weekend long. The weather was perfect, the view was fantastic and the company was just great...especially Ken. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

My gifts were pretty special, too. Ken gave me a beautiful sterling silver hairbrush, comb and mirrow set, and to top that off, he also gave me a diamond bracelet which read: BARBIE--25. He says that next year he'll give me a diamond ring for my birthday. Mom and Dad bought me a large share in that famous toy company Mattel, and an Italian sports car.

Now I think I'm all set for at least another twenty-five years, don't you?