When I was young, I really wanted a Barbie doll. But Mother wouldn’t let me have one. She was convinced that this too-thin, fashion-obsessed airhead would fill my brain with pink rubbish and trigger body image issues.
Dimpled Cabbage Patch Dolls were deemed acceptable, as were Pound Puppies. But, goddammit, I wanted a Barbie. She was blonde, glamorous, popular – attributes that I thought might somehow rub off on me.
When I went to friends’ houses, I’d sidle up to them and ask in muffled tones: “Got any Barbie dolls?”
They’d give me a knowing look and as soon as Mum left the premises, I was let loose on their collection. I played with a frenzied enthusiasm.
There was one particular model that I coveted: the 1985 Dream Glow doll. This Barbie had a floor-length pink tulle dress covered in white stars. A friend had one and, when she turned off the light, I gasped. The dress glowed in the dark. This was the Barbie to end all Barbies. But, despite my endless pleading, Mother remained consistent.
My passion burnt itself out and Barbie disappeared from my conscious mind (except when I was sidestepping to Aqua’s Barbie Girl in nightclubs back in 1998).
But now that I have young girls of my own, Barbie is back. Although I’ve absorbed some of my mother’s concerns, my children have acquired a number of these dolls: mermaid, rock star, food truck proprietor and ice skater. (I once stood on Barbie’s ice-skating trophy – excruciating.)
While watching the Barbie animated movies, as we frequently do, I find myself singing along to the theme tune from Barbie Dolphin Magic, deftly harmonising with the Roberts sisters (yes, Barbie has a surname) as they chorus around a fire. Wholesome.
That said, I know that Barbie has a dark (pink) past. She was thought to be materialistic and vain. I also can’t help notice rock star Barbie’s unnaturally low body fat percentage, garish eyeshadow (though I understand that harsh stage lights do necessitate heavier makeup) and impractical footwear.
“How is she going to walk in those?” I say loudly around my daughters. “She’s going to have lifelong back problems. Or at the very least plantar fasciitis.”
Bunions Barbie with fuchsia orthotic inserts, anyone?
Another part of me thinks she’s just a harmless toy, perhaps even a positive role model. Barbie has evolved to come in various sizes, ethnicities and her LinkedIn profile rivals Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s.
Now it’s her competition, like the provocatively dressed LOL Dolls, that feel like the real enemy.
But with Barbie out of the nursery and back in the mainstream, painting the town pink (literally) with a new blockbuster, do I need to worry about my children?
I ask Dr Stephanie Damiano, manager of Butterfly’s Body Bright program, which promotes positive body image in primary schools. Damiano says that findings on the impact of Barbie on children’s body image are mixed.
“Some studies report an increase in body dissatisfaction and others not,” she says. “Importantly, what the research seems to indicate is that exposure to Barbie increases young girls’ internalising the societal ideals for thinness to judge their own bodies, which is an important risk factor for developing body dissatisfaction.”
However, she points out that children’s body image is influenced as much by personal and environmental factors as by the toys they play with.
Rachel Tomlinson, a registered psychologist who focuses on child development, agrees.
“Barbie alone doesn’t hold the power,” she says. “It’s conversations in our community and families about body shapes and sizes that are more likely to have a long-term impact on our children’s self-esteem and acceptance of their bodies.”
Tomlinson feels that today’s Barbie can indeed be a positive influence.
“In the animated shows she is often a protector, a problem solver and there is a limited focus on her looks.”
Tomlinson’s daughter plays with Barbies.
“I try to create a positive dialogue about bodies in general, so that regardless of what my daughter hears, she knows that bodies come in a range of shapes, colours, abilities and sizes and her body is perfect just the way it is.”
Damiano adds that an important part of developing a positive body image is through “helping children to see that their value is in who they are, and not what they look like”.
Did brushes with other people’s Barbies damage me? I’m sure my mum would be pleased to know that, perhaps thanks to her early interventions, I don’t like shopping or excessively high heels. And me and the old bod’ get along just fine.
My six-year-old has been very interested in this Barbie article. Given my partner and I are anxious to avoid concepts such as “body image” or “being too skinny/not skinny”, I asked her (a bit vaguely): “Do you think Barbie is good? Bad … ?”
“Well,” she says thoughtfully, “I think she’s a bit of a show off.”
