Barbie has therapy

Research recently coming out of Oregon State University has focused on me, Barbie, and it is troubling news. It's hard enough to sleep with these eyes of mine, but damn, now I can't stop having nightmares. I guess I should see my therapist.

Well hello Barbie, I'm Nurse Ken. You're here to see Dr. Barbie?

 

Just follow me. I'll take you straight in.

Oh  Barbie, it's good to see you. Come on in and lie down on the couch. I'm here to listen.

Dr. Barbie, I've been having these awful dreams......you've read that after playing with Barbie dolls for just 5 minutes, little girls feel limited in their career choices, right? But playing with Mrs. Potato Head for 5 minutes inspires them to pick as many choices as boys?

Last night I woke up screaming after potatoes invaded my work place.

I mean, really...MRS. POTATO HEAD??? I'm losing ground to MRS. POTATO HEAD???????? Over career choices?

It's depressing. Demeaning. Why couldn't it have been Thomas the Tank, Raggedy Ann, a Lego set, the Velveteen Rabbit, anybody but MRS POTATO HEAD. I could just cry...except I can't.

You gotta help me, Dr. Barbie.

 Well Barbie, let's look at the facts. You're 55 years old; you've survived the Cold War, the Vietnam War, been banned in Saudi Arabia, survived the taunts of anorexia, been shamed by GreenPeace, and remember when you were accused of encouraging children to get tattoos (yes, really)? That's just a few of your past issues. And yet here you are.

You're a survivor.  But even icons need a boost once in awhile, so I'm sending you home with a prescription for Prozac that should help your outlook, and I'll see you next month.

Focus Group Barbie

 Hello everybody! My name is Ken and I'm your moderator for this afternoon's focus group. Please make yourself comfortable, and know that at any time you can get up and take a little break if you want. I understand that everybody here today is named "Barbie"? So I guess we can dispense with the introductions.

 Oh I see we have a late-comer! Hello Barbie! Please sit anywhere.

 

 Hey. I'm another late-comer. Is this the Friskies Focus Group? I heard there was lunch.

 

 No. Heh heh heh. NO! That's in room 128. Please.

 

 Okay! Let's get started. What have you most liked about being Barbie? You there, in the gold lamé?

 The clothes! The clothes! The clothes!

 I used to date a guy that looked a lot like moderator Ken? His name was also Ken? Isn't that funny?

Hey, could we talk about what we don't like? You know. Our proportions? Our dumb feet?

Euwwwwww. What happened to your feet anyway?

I dunno. I was sleeping. It happened to my hands too.

Anyhow. I never liked my feet. I'm more comfortable this way.

Are you looking for the Friskies Focus Group? It's in Room 128.

Uh, no. Not hungry. This looks more interesting. Mind if I stay awhile?

Well, I guess... would you like to sign in, and then take a seat with the...hey watch your tail, okay.....

And so ended the Barbie Focus Group.

Nickolay Lamm, MyDeals.com

 The Barbie Focus Group wishes to acknowledge the awesome effort of Artist Nickolay Lamm, who recently unveiled his vision of "Normal Barbie." We wish to apologize for not coming up with the same idea.

Barbie walks the dogs

 Oh dear, my classic family name of Barbie is in the news again. Well, Mexican Barbie, to be specific, has been deemed a Chihuahua-carrying stereotype with a passport. Seriously, people? This is news? Hello, I've been a stereotype since 1959.

 

 Yep, I've been causing little girls to question the female image since the day I was born. Although nobody really questioned my taste in pets. Here I am walking my animal companions in Kerry's yard.

 I have a rescue poodle and, appropriate to the house I live in, a rescue dust ball.

 We're on our way to one of many dust ball play parks nearby. This one is located  below a book shelf.

 Well well, look who's here. It's little Madame Alexander's Mexican doll.

 

 She brought her dust ball too.  They sniff noses.

 

 "How come you don't have any shoes?" I ask her. "And where's your chihuahua?"

 "Kerry lost my shoes 45 years ago," she says, "and dust balls are much easier than chihuahuas."

"Do you mind showing me your passport?"

"Shut up Barbie! Now you're just being mean! You know I only have a green card! Come on Polvo, vamanos!! Let's go play with Taliban Barbie. She's much nicer than you!!"

And so it goes.

Barbie's big day

The fashion shoot that I had planned with my pristine vintage Barbie did not go especially well. I dressed her in her adorable corduroy dress and apron, but against the backdrop of my messy kitchen, she didn't look that great.

Hmm...just look at this!

Here I am with my matching potholders and complete set of clean, organized kitchen utensils, and I can hardly even see this kitchen because of these people's mess.

And who is this? Is she about to fling that ball?

At this point John had begun taking over Barbie's poses. I was more interested in changing her outfits. Her clothes are really quite fetching, as you can see in the next picture. But I should have been keeping my eye on John.

Ah, the great outdoors. This is more like it! I think I'll go for a walk.

Oooh, that cat looks kind of hungry. This calls for a costume change...isn't there something to hide behind?

A women's co-op in Afghanistan recently made little Barbie burqas, and I thought this might be a good chance to have Barbie try one on for size. Islamic Revolution Barbie! I think she is still revealing too much of her blue jeans, though.

What camel? I don't see any camel. This is Oregon; don't be silly.

Another costume change, and by this time John had completely taken over the project, deciding that he might make a movie.

I am going for a nice walk with my doggie.

Do you like my orange sweater with tiny brass buttons? Oh look! It's a bunny!

Hey, stop chasing that bunny! Come back here this minute!

This minute, I say!!

What's that I hear behind me?

John, completely in charge now (and wildly excited by the power of film-making) allowed the event to transform from a simple fashion show to a violence-ridden bloodletting.




In the end, I made him create a peaceful conclusion, with everybody being friends, but the resulting photo is unconvincing: