I'm just another working mom seeking a few moments of Zen and zinfandel between soccer practice and supper. My former beach bartender husband founded 
As a child I inherited my older sisters’ Barbies. My modern fully pose-able Barbies accepted the old girls into their fold of eternal blonde hair and blue eyes. I never had a Ken doll, though. There might have been some Cougar Barbie action at night when I went to bed. I’ll never know. Any way the Barbies have managed to follow me into adulthood. They’re kind of a rag tag group, unclothed, a little musty behind the ears, and in dire need of a spa getaway. My sisters have never claimed them and I’ve never felt quite right about selling them at a yard sale or donating them to Goodwill so since college they’ve followed me every time I’ve moved.
Yes. I am a closet vintage Barbie hoarder!
Back in the summer I was getting some clothes out of storage in our attic and found a bag of Barbie clothes my maternal grandmother lovingly made for my collection of Barbies. I found one of the vintage Barbies in the bag. She’s a blonde haired, blue eyed naked Skipper doll. I brought her downstairs and she ended up on our breakfast bar, also known as the great dumping ground of our house, and I guess the girls didn’t really feel having Barbie Island Princess give her a makeover or a sympathy round of Botox. My brother came over the next week and was laughing at poor, naked Skipper and promptly placed her on top of a very tall bookcase in our den. And she’s been up there ever since peering down on us and, oh, I don’t know, she’s kind of grown on me.
Actually I’d pretty much forgotten she was there. Until a few weekends ago.
Miss C had a friend over to play and after her friend left with her mom Miss C and I were talking about the day when she said something that took me by surprise.
“Mommy, Mindy wants to know why we have a naked Barbie on top of the bookcase.”
I didn’t really have a good reason, except that I’d forgotten about her which might give you a clue about my general housekeeping skills since I only occasionally dust the top of our tall bookcase.
Naked Skipper doll has grown on me, kind of like a kitschy hula girl doll or a yard gnome. Don’t start worrying about me, though, unless I start dressing her up for each holiday. Wait, maybe that would be better than her being totally naked.
I will only worry about you if you have a yard gnome in your yard.
When I first starting dating my husband—gosh, 17 years ago
ack
—I noticed something odd about one of his mom’s houseplants. She (they?) had a tiny E.T. figurine perched in the corner of the pot.
I remember asking Chris, “Did you realize you have a tiny E.T. in that houseplant in the kitchen?”
He’d never noticed.
Your post made me laugh, particularly about the dressing of the Barbies for each holiday. And not because I find that strange, but because the “in” thing in our town now is to go to the local market to look at the deli cases. Besides the meats and cheeses, one whole corner case is now devoted to seasonal displays of… you guessed it, Barbies (and GI Joes) dressed in various outfits appropriate for the setting.
Did I mention that I live in a REALLY small town?
.-= WorkingMom´s last blog ..And I Thought I Hated Housecleaning =-.
Sadly, I never had a Barbie when I was little – only her little sister Skipper, and her friend Scooter. ‘Member them?
(I guess I just dated myself.)
.-= sweatpantsmom´s last blog ..She’s With The Band, Part I: Beg and Ye Shall Receive =-.
Sweatpants Mom:
I took basic journalism freshman year of college in 1987 on a TYPEWRITER! I feel your pain. Cough.
.-= Jamie´s last blog ..You
I love Barbie and her friends when I was a teen. I had this little catalog of all kinds of Barbies , Barbie campers and swimming pools, which I would flick through and dream of having everything in it.
Sometimes I scour Ebay to see if there are any of those items from the 80’s for sale. They are rare and expensive, but so much better than the Barbie stuff for sale these days.
.-= Daisy ´s last blog ..Maternity Halloween Costumes =-.