Last year, when we asked our then-second grader what she desired for Christmas, her unexpected answer sent a shiver of dread through me: “I want an American Girl Doll!” I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure.
As a child, I adored reading, and when the “American Girls” series debuted, I was over the moon. The stories of Molly, Samantha, and Kirsten transported me to different eras, providing a glimpse into lives far removed from my own. However, today, with their stunning dolls, elaborate wardrobes, and furniture that rivals what I have in my own home, the only destination these dolls seem to lead to is financial ruin. (Is it wrong to say that? Maybe time for credit counseling.)
These dolls cost upwards of $100 each, and that price tag doesn’t include the essential designer outfits every proper American Girl doll owner must have. There are nearly a dozen dolls to choose from, and you can even customize one to resemble your daughter.
I distinctly remember being bewildered when I saw a Facebook post declaring, “WARNING: THE AMERICAN GIRL CATALOG HAS ARRIVED!” If only I had intercepted that catalog before my excited, eager-to-fit-in second grader got her hands on it.
When she announced her intention to ask Santa for an American Girl Doll, I quickly realized there was no way we could justify that expense. I felt pretty clever when, after expressing my concerns about the cost, she countered with, “But Santa’s elves can make them!” I adeptly responded, “Santa doesn’t deliver gifts that parents don’t deem appropriate.” Crisis averted. I had previously used similar logic to explain why Santa wouldn’t be bringing us a puppy the year her sister was born. Unless he also planned on delivering a year’s supply of wine and a live-in puppy-sitter, there was no way I was taking care of a newborn and a puppy.
But really, folks. $120 for a doll? We’re not in Cabbage Patch territory anymore, Xavier Roberts. (Look it up, Millennials.)
Speaking of Cabbage Patch Dolls, let me present my evidence for why my 7-year-old will not be receiving an American Girl Doll this year. Last Christmas, she begged for a Cabbage Patch Doll, and here’s how that doll spends most of its days now:
I assure you, I did not stage this scene.
She was so excited to be a Cabbage Patch mom that she spent her Christmas money on a second doll. That’s right—two Cabbage Patch Kids. Do you think I could find either of those prized possessions right now? Absolutely not. I couldn’t even locate them for a quick (and totally unstaged) photo.
If I genuinely believed my daughter would cherish and care for an American Girl Doll, I might consider buying one. I would have loved to gift my 7-year-old self an AGD back in 1985. I would have adored her, given her a middle name, and played with her daily. However, my second grader is far from the nurturing doll caretaker I was at that age. And that’s perfectly fine. I have no qualms about the fact that she isn’t into dolls. But there’s no way I’m spending that kind of money on a toy that doesn’t truly resonate with her. Unfortunately, after poring over the AGD catalog that fateful day, she became convinced these dolls were exactly what she wanted.
She plastered her walls with posters from the AGD catalog, along with posters of those stars from popular Disney tween shows.
In my opinion, her desire for one stems primarily from the belief that all her friends have one. And maybe they do. But our family has made different financial choices; for the price of one of those trendy doll outfits, I could buy myself a new pair of shoes. I’m not joking—I’d think twice about spending that much on an outfit for myself.
So, unless I decide to buy a used doll from a previous owner on Craigslist, Santa wasn’t going to be bringing her a mini-me doll this year. Instead, we opted for Plan B: we used a discount coupon to buy a similar, less expensive doll, and our daughter was overjoyed.
Several months after the arrival of “Julia,” my daughter’s beloved knock-off AGD, I captured this telling photo of her new doll’s resting place: the top shelf of the closet. Please note her disheveled, unclothed appearance. Case closed.
This year, despite any pleading, we will adhere to our policy: No American Girl Dolls.
In summary, while American Girl Dolls may hold nostalgic value for some, the financial burden and my daughter’s lack of genuine interest make them an impractical choice. Instead, we focus on gifts that truly resonate with her interests, even if they come from the discount aisle.