With Greta Gerwig’s pink lacquered billion-dollar box-office hit Barbie dominating Oppenheimer and other films, the polarizing doll continues to cause waves with the same allegations of yesteryear. Get into the rose-tinted madness of it all below.
Media illiteracy mixed with a collective society’s misperceptions has inundated Barbie with social conjectures that have been made up for our insecurities or hidden fears, “Barbie was everything we didn’t want to be, and we’re being told to be,” a direct quote by Gloria Steinem during my re-watch of Tiny Shoulders: Rethinking Barbie (2018).
Except, of course, a then-radicalized twenty-something director of the Independent Research Service secretly funded by the CIA has some charged thoughts on a doll marketed to the persuadable masses. Steinem’s loaded opinions throughout the years on Barbie have been that of a fully adult woman projecting and picking a battle onto a toy doll for her imagery— Steinem never played with Barbie as a child since she was already an adult upon her release. ’Tis true; the awakened woman hasn’t the desire nor the energy to coach, mother, or nag the patriarchy into understanding something they’ve already chosen to misinterpret without alleviating.
This includes any person with government-checkered pasts preaching on empowerment, only to capitalize on, you guessed it, impressionable young women. With all due disrespect, the supposed ‘Mother of Feminism’ can leave Barbie for the girls or any other whimsical kid in between without having projected notions by the surrounding adults.
Coincidentally, Steinem’s break to fame in 1963 was donning a Playboy Bunny costume equivalent to Barbie’s bathing suit debut at the American International Toy Fair in 1959. Yet, with many other incredible women at the intersectional forefront, Steinem became a privileged poster girl with her style and looks— young, thin, attractive, and white over other women, like Shirley Chisolm or Betty Friedan— during the Civil Rights movement.
This isn’t surprising for someone who willfully misunderstands American Psycho— a fantastic albeit misconstrued horror film based on the more horrendous and graphic novel of the same name. The film adaptation doesn’t endorse its subject matter, nor does the female-directed film glorify violence against women. Instead, it centers on the sociopolitical times of American exceptionalism during the ‘80s— a strong focus on capitalism, yuppie greed, and misogyny can be hard to watch but layered within the theatricality of a horror film, it works mercilessly.
Yet funnily enough, the best pop culture contribution the former CIA plant did was allegedly convince Leonardo DiCaprio during a Yankees game not to portray Patrick Bateman after Titanic simply for marketable optics, otherwise known as the formal version of ‘Don’t scare the hoes or the girlies.’ Fortuitously leaving room for her stepson, Christian Bale, to give a cunty and sadistic performance modeled after Tom Cruise; nevertheless, I digress. Steinem has a questionable archival history of pointing blame ‘misspeaking’ at women— like when she commented on the women willingly working on the film American Psycho or when women chose to support Bernie Sanders over Hilary Clinton— a Google search can be fascinating. Did impressionable girls need a hidden suit in charge, formally backed by American tax dollars, telling us what’s supposedly wrong with Barbie’s image— I think the fuck not; Steinem’s an original ‘white savior Barbie.’
Barbie’s popularity fluctuated over the years, and while I don’t remember much, as memories can be unreliable or hazy, yet like many other girls— I remember being gifted baby dolls at Christmas or birthday celebrations during my childhood, despite never asking for them. Even one Christmas, I received a My Buddy Kid Sister doll from my parents, and I still remember having to put on an “It’s an avocado, thanks!’ type of Vine performance so that I didn’t hurt their feelings— my mother was very good at gift picking, although the rare misfires happen.
I still remember its Cabbage Patch Kid-looking face and how I despised Cabbage Patch Kids— even as a kid because I thought they were useless toys and ugly— My Buddy Kid Sister stayed on my closet shelf until I was around ten, and we donated the hideous Chucky-inspired thing.
Baby dolls weren’t truly played with in our house because, after five minutes, what child wants the responsibility of taking care of another human being for so long? The indoctrination of turning young girls into mothers is never lost; the pressures are insurmountable.
My sisters and I already knew what taking care of siblings was like. Still, our Mexican culture and religion dictated— I remember being told around age seven that not only did I have to learn to change diapers, learn to do laundry, and even cook, not for self-independence or necessity— but for my future husband. Never forgetting these words or learning household skills passed onto girls but not often boys, I vowed to learn for myself. However, there are exceptions, like my seven-year-old niece, who seems to love the responsibility of baby dolls and the privilege of owning an American Girl doll my older sister desperately wanted.
Supremely losing her pink-heeled footing by the mid-‘80s, Barbie was due for a recharge. The original Hannah Montana— otherwise known as my other childhood favorite, Jem and the Holograms, nearly eclipsed the doll’s legacy with her socially aware ability and pop star demeanor. Being a Barbie fan and collector, Mattel’s then-chief executive Jill Barad, understood the assignment to redesign Barbie and her lackluster sales. Barad changed it all with a savvy advertising campaign aimed and centered around girls that declared, ‘We Girls Can Do Anything.’
Growing up in the height of Barbie madness in the early ‘90s was fanciful. Girls desired options, not be locked in a patriarchal cage by one soul-crushing job or expectation— we get that enough. Instead, Barbie knows to re-invest in herself to find any career she wants and be financially independent to live in whatever Dreamhouse she creates for herself— Barbie’s always been ahead of the game, like going to the moon four years before American astronauts and getting her first Dreamhouse in 1962— before the Equal Credit Opportunity Act passed in 1974, where banks could discriminate based on sex or marital status.
The patriarchy has long put the need to subjugate and assert its power for dominance and control, especially via marketed advertising. Whether we like to admit it or not, these popular and other controversial dolls mirror the sociopolitical times we see throughout our lives as plutocrats then authorize and sell as the blame is put on toys like Barbie for being a so-called ‘Princess of Capitalism.’ Yet boys and their militarized toys have dominated the markets since always. Still, as we know, it’s always easier to make an example out of feminity or women for doing what men are already doing instead of holding men accountable— i.e., G.I. Joe. Insecurely projecting or solely blaming such heavy burdens onto an 11.5-inch plastic doll is a bit much in our post-Oppenheimer world.
Mattel certainly didn’t help itself. Blunders occur as not even Barbie is perfect for being a plastic doll. Adults still fixate on Barbie’s measurements and often compare her to human girls, whether it’s from those around us since insecurities stick— ask any child with an almond mom fixated with ‘diet culture,’ its dangers always seep its destructive way toward consumerism masked as ‘health and wellness.’ Even if it’s geared toward kids since corporate suits reflect the times only to learn too little too late, even with countless market research or resources.
Like 1965’s Slumber Party Barbie and her controversial accessories— including an accompanying hand mirror, curlers, a PJ set, a robe, heeled slippers, a triggering-for-some diet book, and a scale. Despite the evident missteps around ‘Diet culture,’ Slumber Party Barbie’s lifespan was about two years (her slumber party accessories have since been modified). Other controversial Barbies include Teen Talk Barbie, which inspired The Simpsons’ spoof version with Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy in 1994— an episode I remember watching as a kid— or 2009’s Totally Stylin’ Tattoos Barbie complete with a temporary Ken ‘Tramp Stamp.’
Yet, Barbie never led me toward a path riddled with insecurities about my self-image— sexism throughout society or advertised via pop culture taught me that. Also, the self-hating women around me who knowingly or unknowingly adhered. How can a plastic doll have so much power over girls if those patriarchal projections weren’t already loudly around them?
The media did the same toward Mattel’s Barad, doubting her capability despite changing business trajectory in her short years. By the mid-‘80s, countless new dolls and accessories swamped the market, sadly but understandably leaving Jem and the Holograms behind in their glittery ‘80s stardust.
By 1997, Barbie’s earnings turned Mattel into a billion-dollar industry, yet as usual, women’s skills are questioned with doubts drenched in sexism, “Wall Street watches her warily, wondering if she’s tough enough to get results. (After all, how tough can she be with all that hair?).”— the LA Times circa 1999. Unfortunately, Jill Barad was Mattel’s last woman in charge after Ruth Handler’s book cooking ousting— God forbid women have the same hobbies as other Fortune 500 sharks or the one percent that don’t pay taxes. Barad was pink-slipped during the turn of the Millennium for an unrelenting secret project for a Princess Diana doll before 1997, despite Lady Spencer’s understood denial of being commercially exploited before her untimely and unsavory death. Allegedly, Barad persisted in her quest to make Mattel less dependent on Barbie and was terminated for the unauthorized Princess Diana doll-turned-fiasco, except the headline was ‘stepping down to a reporting loss in 1999’.
It’s fascinating how much Barbie stayed with me as a kid, especially ‘90s-era Barbie. She was financially accessible to all, and I’d expect nothing less from a hard-working Jewish proletariat like Barbie. I still remember which Barbies my older sisters and I had, which led me toward a tangent path of listing and researching the dolls we owned. I never realized our cumulative rare Barbies— hindsight sidetrack; I wish I kept my girls.
I’ve surprisingly always viewed Barbie as being wildly misunderstood. Even with Mattel’s parent corporation American Girl Dolls, being around, that tour de force wasn’t the same. Similar evocative messages for girls from various walks of life and powerful stories to tell from history— they were never an economic option for us— that didn’t stop us from devouring the catalog or the book series like Addy, Kirsten, Molly, Felicity, and Samantha.
It’s interesting to see how a person sees Barbie— it tends to mirror a polarizing society that views girls and women with reductive visions or empowerment. Even if Barbie never looked like me with her tan, blonde tresses, or sparkly blue eyes, that didn’t take away from me or make me expect to look like some Westernized beauty standard. Barbie didn’t teach me that overconsuming capitalism was good, seeing other girls as competitors, or insecurely projecting self-hatred— the male-controlled societal sign of the times did.
Even still, Barbie’s measurements don’t matter and never did, despite being initially modeled after a beautiful young Jewish girl. Ultimately, Barbie’s a plastic toy for kids, no matter their interests— Barbie’s ethos is that she can do any job and look fashionably delightful; she helped mold my mind to aim for anything I wanted to be in the real world. Ruth Handler forever understood after experiencing raising children alone during WWII that Barbie’s place, whatever it may be, never included two gender roles often projected onto women— wife, and mother.
Like us, Barbie has had many incantations— with over 250 careers because she can do anything she desires, and there’s nothing wrong with changing our minds— or career paths. Changing your mind to profit is essential for surviving our mostly capitalist-ruled world. It’s knowing and remembering our worth, plus adding a tax— fundamentally, isn’t that the American “greed is good” Dream— just as the settling forefathers who left England for religious persecution in favor of colonization, creating a domino effect of social conjectures?
Since Barbie is here, I’ve been further inspired by the vivid whimsicality, sapphic overtones, but appropriate childlike wonder incorporated in the film that I’ve assembled a film list below. Pairing well with the imperfectly goofy and incredibly fashionable film that fits within the kaleidoscopic and contextual perimeters.
Life-Size (2000)
Eight Grade (2018)
Xanadu (1980)
Cover Girl (1944)
All That Jazz (1979)
My Fair Lady (1964)
Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962)
The Truman Show (1998)
But I’m a Cheerleader (1999)
The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967)
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988)
What a Way to Go! (1964)
Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)
Minnie and Moskowitz (1971)
Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974)
Who Are You, Polly Maggoo? (1966)
Girls Just Want to Have Fun (1985)
Pippi Longstocking (1969)
Alice in Wonderland (1951)
The Wizard of Oz (1939)
Funny Face (1957)
🎧 The Audio Files
With such vivid whimsicality and childlike wonder incorporated into the film, I’ve assembled a sonically pleasing playlist that accompanies the film’s journey with songs I’d pick as an extended soundtrack.
Apple Music, HERE. Spotify, below.
Incidentally, I’ve now seen Greta Gerwig’s Barbie three times. Twice with different siblings, the third was on Wednesday with my two nieces, aged seven and fourteen— one pro-Barbie girl and one Sasha. Coincidentally, I’m an amalgam of both.
Previously growing to hate pink for its incredibly splashy and dramatic tone as I got older until I completely shut it out in favor of darkness— forgetting, perhaps repressing, my former love for all things pink— leave it to my mother to remind me, and anyone I know at some point, that my once childhood dreams were to “live in a pink house and drive a pink car, with lots of pink everywhere.” The mind of a child is a whimsical, wholesome place.
Invalidating my roots in girlhood was denying who I am— Barbie was an intrinsic part of my childhood, no matter how much I once previously denied her. Barbie magenta-pink (#e0218a) is engrained in my brain along with the pinkness of Jem and the Holograms. Retrospectively, I wouldn’t be the woman I am now without the lost and mixed-up girl I was then.
The ashamed-to-be vulnerable soft, girly girl turned angry-at-world tween turned adult that still struggles on difficult days of feeling powerless in a callous male-driven world. Personally, this week was particularly horrid for me, but having to figuratively peel ourselves off the floor of despair inescapably happens now and then.
Thankfully, experience has made me rich enough to awaken within my identity to this mixed-up patriarchal material world and feel less alone while facing adversity. Finding myself again in Barbie’s immersive and silly fantastical world— and seeing Barbie bring back the braided side ponytail, which I’ve always worn over the assumed Wednesday Addams pigtail braids— was an unexpected gift for my inner child. Seeing it with my nieces made it all the sweeter; as Dostoevsky stated, it is in despair that the most burning pleasures occur, especially when one is all too highly conscious of the hopelessness of one’s position.
Con Amor,
Naomi xx