Tuesday, 16 October 2007
I'm a Barbie Girl
On the left is Jordan, aka Katie Price. For those of you not familiar with her, she is famous for, well, being famous. She started off as a Page Three girl in the Sun, meaning she took her clothes off and posed naked for the camera. She has ENORMOUS boobs thanks to the miracle of plastic surgery. She's not stupid, though she certainly looks it. She's built a mini Jordan/Katie Price empire. She went on one of those celebrity reality shows and met her husband, Peter Andre, a failed pop singer, there. They've since made a couple of reality programs in which they've shown themselves to be quite natural around the cameras and also just normal people. They have three children; her first child, by a footballer, is blind and autistic. She is very honest about what life with him is like. Peter Andre has become the boy's surrogate father. I want to dislike Jordan/Katie Price but I can't. For underneath the Barbie clothes and the pink carriage she rode in for her wedding, she's someone I think I could get along with.
We all know the girl on the right. I went through a Barbie phase when I was growing up. I still covet some of her clothes (the ones from the 60s) and those little shoes. And I envy her figure, though not her lack of sex organs. My Barbie dated Ken, but she really liked GI Joe because he had moveable hands. That meant he could cuddle her, unlike Ken, whose arms stuck straight out and were as immoveable as his inane smile.
My daughter went through a Barbie phase too. I got her all the stuff I never had (second-hand of course). Her Barbies (for she had many -- oh, the wonders of trade with China) had skis, furniture, a van, a big house or two, tiny knives and forks, a dishwasher for those knives and forks and plates and goblets. She had a candelabra, for heaven's sake. And she had Ken, with moveable arms AND legs. One night when my husband was tucking my daughter in, he noticed what looked like a party set up on the floor. Ken was on top of Barbie, cuddling her, with his surfboard nearby sticking straight up. Guess the poor guy had to get a stiffy any way he could. I'm sure it was all innocent fun on my daughter's behalf, but hubby and I sure had a good laugh.
My Barbie phase ended when I was about 9; my daughter's ended even earlier. I know Barbies aren't very feminist dolls, though goodness knows Mattel has tried to make her hip with the times. And I've seen some really very funny jokes with Barbie the butt of them (redneck Barbie, terrorist Barbie, etc). Truthfully, I miss Barbie.
But I can always watch Katie Price, the living, talking, filty-mouthed Barbie. And she is more fun.