Updated: Aug. 15, 2015
Originally Published: June 15, 2015
When my daughter remarked about my childhood summers, she was incredulous that at the age of 10, I still found joy in playing with Barbies. Her response was a mix of disbelief and amusement, perhaps because she couldn’t imagine me engaging in such “childish” pastimes. Yet, I held back the details of my Barbie escapades.
In my childhood home, Saturday mornings were reserved for three sacred rituals: cereal, cartoons, and Barbies. After indulging in my favorite breakfast and enjoying shows like Muppet Babies and Snorks, my sister and I would retreat to our room, immersing ourselves in countless hours of imaginative play with our beloved dolls.
However, there’s a confession I must make after all these years: my Barbie led quite the scandalous life. Yes, what many see as innocent fun took on a soap opera twist in my hands, filled with passionate entanglements. To put it bluntly, my Barbie was a bit of a floozy—bow-chicka-wow-wow!
Equipped with a pink canopy bed, my Barbie was well-prepared for her romantic adventures, especially since I had snagged a dashing Malibu Ken, who sported perfectly placed tan lines. My sister, on the other hand, wasn’t as fortunate; her Ken came from the short-lived Heart Family series and was stuck in permanent plastic underwear—a fact she lamented often.
To spice things up, we often reimagined Barbie and Ken as characters from our favorite TV shows or even real people. At one point, my Barbie was Eden and my Ken was Cruz from the old soap opera Santa Barbara, while my sister often cast her Ken as Ricky Schroder or Joey McIntyre. Yet, more often than not, my Barbie played the role of me, and Ken was whoever I had a crush on at the time. This leads me to another secret: my Barbie was quite the two-timer.
Around the time I became a fan of the Monkees, my heart was torn between Davy Jones and Micky Dolenz. While I initially thought I was supposed to favor Davy—thanks to his heartthrob status and charming accent—I found myself more drawn to Micky, the funny one. It was a classic case of a prepubescent love triangle, and I navigated those emotional waters with all the grace of a soap opera character.
Enter Barbie relationship therapy. With two Kens at my disposal, I created scenarios where Barbie dated Davy but couldn’t resist Micky’s charms. Inappropriate situations may have unfolded—I won’t deny it. Eventually, I made the right choice and declared my unwavering love for Micky, promising to be faithful from that point onward. I suspect Davy took the news hard.
Now, before you judge my parents for the fictional escapades I orchestrated, let’s clear them of blame. Sure, maybe my mother’s fondness for soap operas influenced my imagination, but they did a fantastic job raising us. While my Barbie may have led a scandalous life, I was the complete opposite in reality—practically a nun. Well, except for my Barbie’s escapades. While I was naturally curious about adult relationships, I was also taught that actions have consequences. So, my poor Barbie had to play out all those fantasies—lucky her, or perhaps not.
So, yes, despite my daughter’s disbelief, I did continue to play with Barbies at 10 years old. And now that I reflect on it, perhaps it’s for the best that she doesn’t share the same interests.
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In summary, the playful adventures of my Barbie served as a canvas for exploring my feelings about relationships and crushes during my childhood. While it might seem trivial, this imaginative play was a way to navigate the complexities of growing up and understanding emotions.