by Wyborn Senna
Lynne would have giggled, but being seriously depressed and anxious even at the tender age of five, she didn’t.
Instead, she said, “That’s not a name.”
P.J. had felt sorry for her cousin even then. She had inherited the least complementary features of both parents: Stuart’s jug ears and Liz’s beaked nose. In years to come, she would gain weight and kids at school would avoid her. She would pull inward and study subjects relegated to hardcore academics—Latin, Anthropology, Genetics, Medieval History, and Physics. She would worship her mother, who was every bit as sophisticated as P.J.’s mom, Angela, wishing (as P.J. did) that she had inherited the truly white-blond hair both mothers had. Only Aunt Liz’s harsh nose ruined the overall effect, but she had since taken care of the problem, getting a nose job in Beverly Hills as soon as she could afford it.
Lynne would never get a nose job or worry about her ears. She lived alone in a loft downtown and worked for a genetic research firm, seldom seeing others outside her job. She didn’t trust others and didn’t even seem to like people, but P.J. suspected her attitude had been built up from years of being treated poorly by a society that judges others on how they look and dress before they stop to consider what you have to say and think.
Two roads diverged in the woods, as the poem went, and P.J., blessed with natural beauty, always knew she could do anything she wanted, have anything she wanted, take anything she wanted—except for Aunt Liz’s dolls, because they were her repugnant cousin’s birthright.
P.J. scrutinized her aunt that Friday and wondered if she would ever kill her to get her dolls. Looking at how her pretty blond hair fell on her shoulders as she bent to cut the designer anniversary cake that day, she knew she wouldn’t, knew she couldn’t. There were too many things about her that reminded her of her own beloved mother—her throaty voice, the way she flicked her ashes into an ashtray with two taps, the way she scratched her head right above her left ear when she was thinking. She was family, and she had never pissed P.J. off.
The question to follow, then, was would she ever kill Lynne for the dolls once the brat had inherited them? No. As annoying as Lynne was, she was more mentally unstable than vindictive. In fact, when Liz had given P.J. the freckle-less Midge doll years earlier, Lynne had done nothing but stand back as if to say, “It’s just another Midge. I’ll have hundreds of Mommy’s dolls someday.”
Just a taste, Lynne’s eyes seemed to say.
Lynne was due to get her bounty of dolls, but she was so unhinged it was impossible for P.J. to feel anything but pity for her.
33
The receptionist brought Caresse water in a paper cup during the commercial break, and then she and Sammy were back on the air. Instead of looking bored, Sammy seemed captivated, his beard visibly quivering from the exhilaration of great talk radio.
SS: I’m Sammy Stoudt. This morning, we’re with Caresse Redd. Like I said at the top of the hour, I just started collecting political campaign buttons, but I’m not that serious a collector yet, and now here’s a woman, she’s really into this Barbie doll stuff, and it sounds like a lot of people out there are too. So tell me, Caresse, why did Barbie doll become such a huge success?
CR: She symbolized the times back then. At least, her earlier image did. She was just that well made and aesthetically pleasant. I’m sure a lot of moms did not want to buy her for their child because she was a sexy-looking doll. But she took. Girls wanted her. They wanted to be all grown up and have breasts and a boyfriend. You know how really small girls play with baby dolls? It’s fantasy. They get to be something they’re not yet. Same with Barbie. Young girls get to imagine being beautiful, popular in school, married, having any career they want, buying their own home, wearing fabulous clothes, being independently wealthy, living on their own. What could be more liberating for a second grader?
SS: Any of the accessories, any of the things like the dollhouse or the cars that completely bombed because the marketing didn’t work?
CR: I can’t really think of anything that did bomb. She had a boat I don’t think many people were aware of. I guess you could use a boat, but it just wasn’t popular. She also had an airplane early on that never really took off—excuse the pun.
SS: And this may sound like a silly question, but I’m really curious about this. When you look at accessories or pieces of clothing, how do you authenticate them?
CR: This is where research comes in handy. Within the past fifteen years, close to a dozen good research books have been released by places like Collector Books and Hobby House Press. You get the identification guides and study. If you like it, you learn it, and then you can tell what’s fake from what’s real, meaning what’s fake from what’s Mattel.
SS: Give me something you might look for to authenticate a Barbie doll or an accessory.
CR: Okay, well, let’s take clothing. In all of Barbie’s vintage clothes, there should be a black and white Mattel tag. Most of what she wore had labels throughout the early years. But to identify a piece of clothing without a label, most of the early outfits were sewn in Japan and the craftsmanship is just astounding. The buttons are maybe one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter, and they’re sewn on perfectly. The snaps are tiny, sturdy, and sewn on just as well. Then there are the tiny little loops and closures, attached flawlessly.
SS: When did Ken come along?
CR: Ken came along in ’61.
SS: All right, so she started out in ’59, and Ken came along in ’61. Why did they feel the need for Ken? What’s the story behind that?
CR: In many girls’ fantasies, there’s a boyfriend. I mean, you know, it’s just natural. It’s the dating thing. And for young girls to pretend that their doll is going out on a date is fun. What’s interesting, though, is that through the years, Barbie’s had a lot of careers. Ken has never done anything.
SS: Ha-ha-ha! That’s a great quote, yeah.
CR: Why does she keep him around? I mean, think about it. She’s been everywhere and done everything. She’s hanging onto someone who’s nothing.
SS: Although we are talking about dolls that reflect real life, aren’t we?
CR: Ha-ha, okay, okay. Well, he’s there for her.
SS: Where do the names Barbie and Ken come from, by the way?
CR: Ruth Handler’s children were named Barbie and Ken. Ironically, Barbie Handler, the real Barbie that Barbie doll was named after, could care less about her.
SS: Yeah. I mean, can you imagine what that’s like, having that hang over your head? Oh, here’s Barbie.
CR: Yeah, yeah. Well, Ken’s not too happy about it either. He—you know, he gets approached. He said the best thing about it was that, over the years, he’s met women who are Barbie doll collectors, and it’s so easy to start conversations with them because of who he is, but—
SS: Yeah, they can always ask him if he’s got a job yet.
CR: Yeah, ha-ha. But you know, he is kind of taking it better than his sister.
D: All right. We’re talking about Barbie doll with Caresse Redd. We welcome your calls this morning. 1-800-555-KVEC. Let’s go down to Oceano, and we’re joined by Herbie.
H: Good morning, everybody.
SS: Hi, Herbie.
H: Hey, this is fun to listen to. I’m a collector of a lot of different aspects of our American culture, and if you think about it, most of the real Barbie and Kens have risen up to anchor spots on television news now.
CR: There you go.
H: That’s all I wanted to say.
SS: All right, Herbie, thanks for calling in.
CR: I do want to point out that the Barbie doll we think of as the stereotypical Barbie doll is not the only Barbie doll that’s out there. She comes in many nationalities, many colors. The body is the same, I’ll grant you that. But she comes in many faces and guises nowadays.
SS: Hey, when did that change?
CR: The first African-American friend for Barbie doll, Christie, came out in 1968. And do you remember the show Julia, by any
chance?
SS: The TV show with Diahann Carroll? Yeah.
CR: After Christie came out, Mattel issued a Julia doll in, like, ’69, and from then on, there were some African-American friends, and then we got into Japanese dolls and Chinese dolls, and now probably twenty different countries and ethnic groups are represented.
SS: Caresse, I know she’s just a doll, but if Barbie were sitting over here, what kind of woman would she be?
CR: Her personality is supposed to just be helpful, kind, friendly—the ultimate Girl Scout.
SS: Sort of like Brooke Shields.
CR: Yeah. And she’s supposed to always be politically correct in everything she does. She’s dead set against fur.
SS: And how do we know that?
CR: Actually, an event came up a while back where some real fur was being used in her outfits, and a statement came out that Barbie is against the use of fur.
SS: Does she have any faults?
CR: I don’t think so.
SS: Is there fever for Ken? Is he worth anything to a collector?
CR: Much less. Again, I’m sorry, I feel like I’m down on the poor guy. Not really fair, is it? Barbie has always stolen his thunder and there’s nothing we can do about it now. The porcelains, early Barbies that were reissued in porcelain for a few hundred dollars each, were issued a few years ago and collectors were excited. But when the thirtieth anniversary Ken came out in porcelain, nobody really wanted him either. I don’t get it.
SS: But it’s fair to say that without Barbie, there’d be no Ken. I mean, he’s like the sidekick.
CR: Oh, yeah, yeah.
SS: So, on his own, he just doesn’t stand, no pun intended.
CR: Absolutely. You know, maybe it’s that he kind of looks—you know, I would rather see Barbie date G.I. Joe. I mean, at least he’s got some muscle to him.
SS: Let’s go out to San Luis, and we have Pat on the line. Pat, good morning.
P: Good morning. Hey, what an interesting show!
SS: Thank you. Yeah, kind of different.
P: Yeah. I’ve got a daughter, six years old, and she has more Barbies than I can count. My wife goes to garage sales and one day she picked up a box, probably a three-foot-long box, full of absolutely everything for, like, five dollars. Totally amazing the things that they can get—the intricate little shoes and furniture and all kinds of things.
CR: Mm-hmm.
P: I understand that they’ve got Barbies from everywhere, all over the world, Australia, and it kind of made me think about all the mothers out there who try to slip another Barbie on the shrimp. Ha! I just had to say that.
SS: I knew he was leading up to something. I knew it was a setup. Another Barbie on the shrimp. That’s funny, though. Barbie fever. A lot of different people collect her. Is there a profile for collectors? Like, for example, people who collect Barbies, is that the only thing that they collect or do they collect other things as well?
CR: Most people who collect Barbies, they can be into other dolls, but as a general rule, they’re not. Barbie is their first love. I know one woman who collects trolls and Barbies, another woman who collects rocks and Barbies, so yeah, you can spread out from there, but Barbie generally comes first.
SS: I’m afraid to ask this, but are we gonna find ourselves in a whole wave of Cabbage Patch doll fever? I mean, are people gonna be pursuing Cabbage Patch dolls like they do Barbie?
CR: Never.
SS: Man, I wish you could see the look on her face when I mentioned Cabbage—it’s sacrilegious. Boy, Caresse, the hour has gone by far too quickly. I want to thank you for coming by. To me, the sign of a good show is when I learn something.
CR: Uh-huh.
SS: And I know I’ve been giving you a rough time about this, but I’ve actually learned a lot, not just about collecting but a little bit about our culture as well. So I thank you, and maybe you can come back sometime and talk about Barbie and talk about your years in Los Angeles, too, ’cause you’ve got that experience as well. Is there part of the Barbie collection, a doll or an accessory, that you would give your left arm for, something you’ve been searching for but you haven’t been able to find?
CR: No.
SS: You’ve been able to get what you want?
CR: I basically have. I like the new repros. I like Francie, and I like old talkers. You know, the dolls that say phrases when you pull their strings.
SS: But with the talkers, doesn’t that remove some of the mystique?
CR: Well, you know, I don’t think so. I mean, the typical talker’s gonna be saying, “Let’s go get a cheeseburger.”
SS: Or “Let’s go get some tofu,” ’cause it’s California. “Let’s get some tofu.”
CR: That’s right. But yeah, when you only have three or four words to get out in a phrase, it can’t mean that much.
SS: Fifty years from now, when we’re listening to the Sammy Stoudt Jr. Show, are we still going to be talking about Barbie? Is she going to be that big that far in the future?
CR: Absolutely. Her popularity is growing every year. There’s no stopping her. And I predict the one-hundredth anniversary that’ll come up in 2059 is just gonna be outrageous.
SS: And unfortunately, Ken still won’t have a job. He just won’t have a job. What does your group, the Central Coast one, do when you get together?
CR: We talk about Barbies, just like you and I have been.
SS: Yeah. So it’s just like an information exchange?
CR: Yeah, and if people have gone to doll shows—because there are doll shows, you know, at different places—and if they’ve found good deals, they share that. Some members actually sell at shows. So we’ve done road trips.
SS: When’s the next big one coming up?
CR: Oh, gosh, probably the next big one would be up in Foster City on March 30th, which seems pretty far off. I don’t think anything else is happening sooner than that. And if you want to go to the National Convention in Kansas City, Missouri, you can do that in June, but–
SS: Oh, I’m tempted. Missouri. I’m tempted.
CR: Ha-ha. I don’t see too many people looking forward to Missouri.
SS: I’ve got about a minute left. Let’s get back to that serial killer we mentioned at the top of the show. Do you really think there’s a maniac out there, murdering collectors and taking their dolls? Think that’s possible?
CR: I do. It’s scary.
SS: There have been two murders in Oswego and another in Tucson that I’ve heard of. This killer shows no sign of slowing down, true?
CR: True.
SS: Do you think you’re gonna help them catch the person who’s doing this?
CR: Me? I’m not sure I’m smart enough.
SS: I’d disagree with that. Okay, parting thoughts from Barbie.
CR: Oh, well, let me just tap into her consciousness here and see what she says.… “Thanks for loving me.”
SS: Ha-ha-ha! Why not? Caresse, thank you. Hope you come back. Have a good day. Have a safe day. We’ll see you here tomorrow with a new show. I’m Sammy Stoudt. Terri, put the soup on; I’m heading home.
34
The anniversary party was winding down. The guests had come and gone, most leaving behind gifts that ranged from bottles of wine and flowers to framed photos to add to the gallery of prints lining the living room walls.
When Darby saw that Liz was ready to kick off her shoes and sit a while with her niece and nephew, he pulled out his pack of Kent Golden Lights and lit a cigarette. Liz had been smoking all day, so it was clear no one was going to ask him to step outside.
P.J. couldn’t have been happier. She rose from the black leather couch she’d settled into and moved to Darby’s couch to catch the second-hand drift.
Lynne spoke up from a chair in the corner, where she had been watching everyone since noon, not saying much aside from murmuring that if someone might bring her a second slice of cake, she would very much appreciate it.
Stuart took off his jacket and ti
e and slung them onto an empty chair. He sat down beside Liz and held her left hand while she smoked with her right.
“Feels like a wake,” Lynne commented.
Her parents exchanged a quick glance.
“How so, honey?” Liz asked.
“I mean, all these people, all this food.” She darted a quick glance at Darby and P.J. “And relatives.”
“So, Sierra, how’s the magazine doing?”
Darby grinned. Only relatives and people at work called P.J. by her given name, and Darby knew how much she hated it. Even fewer people knew P.J.’s maiden name was Croesus because, like Madonna, she’d fancied herself a one-name wonder since high school.
“P.J., please, Aunt Liz,” P.J. said. “And the magazine’s doing great, thank you. I hired three more people to help me in our home office because I’ve been doing a lot of traveling lately.”
Stuart perked up. “Anyplace interesting?”
“What’s the circulation up to now?” Liz asked.
“Half a million,” P.J. said, glad her aunt had buried her uncle’s question.
“That’s good,” Stuart said.
Liz smiled. “You happy with your staff of writers and photographers?”
“Getting better all the time. We’ve got some good people on board.”
P.J. took off her shoes and crossed her legs Indian-style.
“You should know, Aunt Liz,” Darby said, grabbing his wineglass off the coffee table. “You subscribe, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” Liz said, “but I like to hear it from the horse’s mouth. It’s nice having a niece who’s done so well in publishing. Putting out a monthly periodical is tough.”
“I swear, it runs itself now, really,” P.J. said. “I’ve got twenty people, half of whom are always dealing with subscribers and shipments, five who do the layout and graphics, and five more who do whatever else I need them to. All I have to do is come up with my editorial column each month, sign off on content before it goes to press, and approve the online version.”
“Do your writers come up with ideas or do you?”
“It’s kind of a mix.”
