Recognize these legs?

Ouais, they belong to Barbie.

I was tidying up my room the other day and I found her pretty black Louboutins in an old pencil case, her hotpink tutu between some random stuff, and her Flower Princess butterfly dress at the back of her red expandable Mustang, along with the waffles and milk carton from her white kitchen.

I couldn't help but feel nostalgic for a moment. I haven't thought about my Barbie collection for like a year or so, haven't even thought about where my parents kept them.

I still remember getting the limited edition stuff from a relative who works for Mattel. I still remember falling in love with the aforementioned expandable red Mustang (I had to have it, it's too cool. It came with a car phone!omg). I still remember combing Barbie's hair at night when I couldn't sleep. I still remember naming one of them Jessica because she looked like a Jessica...


..and my first Ken! My Ken was a businessman in a grey tux. I picked that Ken coz I didn't believe the Ken in surfer shorts could buy clothes for Barbie. He had bad hair, though. I'll always remember how stiff his hair was. And how could I forget how my cousin tried making Barbs and Ken have sex? (You have no idea how experimental we were.) Neither of them could bend their legs much. It was so weird coz Barbie wore permanent panties and Ken had no penis to speak of. I guess we weren't supposed to know these things. I admit, it was a disturbed childhood to a certain extent.

Putting the kitchen together on my own remains one of my proudest early achievements. It included the refrigerator, shelves, oven and stove, mind you. I refused help, you know...


But what I liked most about my Barbies (besides the cool clothes) is that it provided a certain kind of release that nothing else could bring. A tiff with my brother could be resolved by changing her clothes. A tantrum could be controlled by putting on her Mizrahi heels or letting her play in Kelly's purple whale-fountain pool.

No matter what, Barbie would always be there for me. Like a best friend; although she knew I really liked Theresa better. She's responsible for the semi-superficial & part-materialistic nature I have today, and for some reason I like it that way.