Rethinking Pink & Barbie Backlash
My mother was anti-Barbie. Her rationale was that she refused to have a doll in the house with a better figure than hers. (For those curious, Barbie’s measurements, in real woman vs. plastic fantasy terms, would be as follows: 5’9” tall; 39” bust, 18” waist, 33” hips, size 3 shoe.)
But Mom had other, more substantive reasons, too. She was a children’s librarian who bristled at the Disney commercialization of beloved classics. She believed in the power of imagination, creativity, storytelling and role-playing. She was an early feminist. And, most importantly, a proponent of letting children be children for the brief, beatific time allotted.
I didn’t understand the Barbie ban at the time, and looked forward to visiting friends and cousins whose parents were far cooler than mine. I got my fix of pink and pouf exploring their Barbie Dream Houses and closets full of gowns, swimsuits and 1960s sheaths. I gorged on borrowed Barbie glam before heading home for a detox of finger paints and puppets.
This week’s mega-hyped premiere of the movie Barbie has me reflecting on my mother’s reasoning — and the roles of toys and play, childhood pursuits and pop culture conditioning.
Since Mattel introduced the iconic doll in 1959, more than one billion Barbies have been sold worldwide — which portends well for studio wonks gleefully calculating box office earnings and audience share.
Perhaps the dearth of Band-aid-sized marabou wraps and pink Corvettes in my formative years has made me bitter, but just a few ruminations that I hope aren’t a total Barbie buzzkill:
Age Inappropriateness. I’m struck by the fact that the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) assigned the film a PG-13 rating for ‘suggestive references and brief language.’ PG-13, according to MPAA, means this: ‘Parents strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.’
Under 13? Really? When Barbie’s target market audience is girls aged three to 12? And while we’re at it, shouldn’t three-year-olds be snuggling with teddy bears and soft-bellied baby dolls rather than miniature mannequins?
Compassion vs. Couture. Dolls have been around for generations — from rudimentary stick figures to straw-filled potato sack creations with button eyes. Dolls are timeless, treasured toys which, according to experts in the fields of psychology and childhood development, play an essential role beyond mere ‘play.’ Doll play assists with cognitive, emotional and social growth. They spark imagination, foster empathy and compassion, help children develop emotional intelligence and cultivate important social skills.
Because Barbie is fully grown, she doesn’t need to be rocked, fed or burped like a baby doll. In fact, she is advanced far beyond the children playing with her (and perhaps their parents). Barbie holds down glamorous careers, drives convertibles, travels the world as an A-list celebrity, all while rocking the latest fashion. Children playing with Barbie don’t actually care for her; they style her, which suggests to me that her instructional value is all about the style of adulthood vs. the substance. Fixing a tiara on a tiny updo isn’t quite the same thing as kissing baby doll boo-boos or ‘reading’ stories to a bedraggled lineup of stuffed animals.
Body Image. Plenty’s been preached about unrealistic beauty ideals delivered via high-gloss pop culture media to younger and younger audiences. And as noted earlier, Barbie the doll is freakishly unrealistic.
I’ll leave it to the experts then to opine on how improbable body proportions can lead to negative self-perception, esteem issues and unhealthy choices. I will, though, share a bit of trivia: In 1965 Mattel introduced the Slumber Party Barbie set. It came with a bathroom scale permanently set at 110 pounds. Also included was a book titled “How to Lose Weight,” whose only instruction was “Don’t eat.” I know. Enjoy those concession carrot sticks at the movie this weekend.
Material Girls. Barbie leads a glamorous lifestyle — out of the box and on screen. She wears designer clothes, sports a Malibu tan, and lives in a dream house. The constant focus on appearance, fashion and extravagant lifestyle can do a number on young minds. Surely the message that material possessions signify success and self-worth isn’t something we want to encourage over other values … like intelligence, understanding, and an independent spirit?
Diva Diversity and Gender Regression. If you’ve stuck with me this far, you may be thinking, ‘Geez, get over yourself, grumpy pants! So, you didn’t have a Barbie doll back in the day. Someone cut Chatty Cathy’s whiny string!’
You may have a point. So did my mom.
At best, the Barbie movie will prove to be a satirical skewering of Barbie world — and a real-world wake-up call. Film producers have gone out of their way to show the varied skin tones, ethnicities, and professional paths of Barbie — all looking plastic-fab and stress-free. There’s a President Barbie. Doctor Barbie. Writer Barbie. Lawyer Barbie. Diplomat Barbie. And, what every girl aspires to — a Mermaid Barbie.
But here’s the thing: Unless there’s a plot line about student debt overload from med school or law school … and those career versions of Barbie come with bags under their eyes and the extra 15 pounds that come with working long hours and eating from vending machines … and Physicist Barbie discovers, as the Hollywood storyboarders have, a way to clone women to meet the extraordinary expectations of a perfect Barbie world — I’m not buying it.
Good on Mattel for their attempts at diversifying the diva. But the movie appears to be a gender twist on the superhero film franchise. Muscles and capes have been replaced by curves and shapely power suits. Females are portrayed as plot twist: Smart! Accomplished! Ambitous!
The men? Not so much. They’re arm candy and window dressing, like their female costars of another generation. The movie poster says it all: “Barbie is everything. He’s just Ken.”
Perhaps, in our efforts to empower girls, we’re doing a disservice by trivializing men. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that women protested our role as accessories. There might be a bit of overreach at play here — an attempt to cure toxic masculinity with Pepto-Bismol pink girls rule the world sashay and snaps.
So yeah, I may be holding onto some latent Barbie longing and feelings of childhood deprivation. Or maybe my mother was right: We need childhood toys that teach us to care less about thigh gaps, luxury accessories and designer jeans — and more about caring for one another.
