Girls can be whatever they want to be, as long as they are sexy when they grow up. This is the message the ever-so-popular Barbie doll has been pushing on America's youth since 1959.When Barbie first hit the market, the creator, Ruth Handler, stated that she wanted to make the perfect role model for her children, Barbie and Ken. .
Parents everywhere ripped open their wallets, stampeded to the stores, and ate the concept up. They wanted their daughters to be just like Barbie Roberts. They even wanted their sons to bring her home. Today, the only difference made to this bizarre idea, is that the doll's family has grown. Now Asian, Hawaiian, African American, Swedish, and other cultures and races of females, can share in the joys of low self image. .
The expectations the doll places on children are intangible. My family showered me with these plastic beauties on every special occasion. My birthday, Easter, and Christmas, I would be found in a corner unwrapping another years worth of expectations. Barbie was unleashed to the world in a revealing bathing suit, wearing makeup, and fully accessorized. Her with ruby red lips, plucked eye brows, and cute little pony tail became the icon of young American girls. She had everything, knew everything, and could do anything. She didn't go to school, never had a bad hair day, and had no need for hand me downs.
Barbie always had ssomeone to play with, and a boyfriend by her side. We were playing with a doll that had an ideal body. We could never have this body, and yet we could not wait to grow up and develop the enormous breasts we would be seeing throughout our childhood. Her clothes wrapped snugly around her tiny waist, and long legs, attached with painfully arched, perfect feet. .
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One day I remember asking my mother why she didn't have shiny hair like Barbie. I thought she had something wrong with her. There must have been something wrong with the bodies, and hair of all the women in my family.
