You’ve Come a Long Way, Doll August 25, 2009

Barbie at 50. Think she's had some work done?

This March Barbie, just Barbie as in Cher, Madonna, Goofy, the eternally slender, bright-eyed, pearly-toothed doll next door that has infuriated and excited millions of women, girls, and gay men turned the big 50.  We took a peek inside her pretty pink diary to get an inside look at how the Queen of Plasticine felt about  this momentous milestone.

February 20, 2009

Dear Diary,

My birthday month is just around the corner! I am so happy I can hardly keep from moving my perpetually bent arms in very close proximity with one another.  I hardly feel 50, my goodness, how time flies when you’re gazing out at the world from the inside of a cardboard box, or in some cases, a collector’s cube in an airtight, temperature controlled vault (standing still is a big job!).  But I can’t take all the credit for my longevity; I have my plastic maker to thank for that! And besides, a girl thrives with a balanced life of super good friends, faithful companions (a dog, a cat, a bird, two ponies, a show dog, and a horse), and lot’s and lot’s of pretty outfits!  I wonder what this new birthday year will bring? I hope it is super fun and that we slaughter those Bratz bitches in the Christmas rush (Christmas is a super festive time!)

xoxo Barbie

February 24, 2009

Dear Diary,

I started compiling the guest list for my 50th Birthday gala!! I can hardly wait to celebrate with all of my very super best good friends who have been so dear to me over the years, like Skipper and Midge. Those two have been spending so much time together lately; I am so thrilled they have become the very bestest of wonderful friends. The other morning I popped over to Midge’s house with a basket of freshly molded muffins and who answered the door in nothing but her “Hang-10″ tee-shirt and little shorts? Skipper! Those girls must have lost track of time gabbing all night long, how fun! Midge is super nice to let Skipper sleep over. And then Christie, of course, my very most dearest and sweetest Afro-American friend since 1968! (I heart diversity!) Though I hope she doesn’t get her poor, little plastic heart broken if action figure Lando Calrissian stands her up again.  Diary, sometimes I feel so bad for people like Christie, I mean, not only does her retail value fluctuate wildly with cultural trends, but her limited color palette makes accessorizing such a chore!

xoxo Barbie

February 28, 2009

Dear Diary,

*Phew!* Today was such a busy, busy day! In the morning I worked a flight from Seattle to Chicago, gotta make sure those skies stay friendly, and then I went to the office to help nuder a couple of adorable puppies; after that I assisted on a heart transplant (boy, those tickers sure are messy!).  I grabbed a quick lunch with my super coolest funnest gal pal, Tracy.  She and Todd are taking my tricked out camper to Yellowstone Park for the summer, I just hope they don’t melt (oh Diary, jokes are FUN!) Following lunch I had Olympic skating practice, ballet class, horseback riding lessons, and then made it to teach my 3:00 p.m. class, Algebra (yikes Diary, new math is hard!). Before getting dinner on the go, I popped into Presidential Campaign headquarters to see how they were coming along on my platforms for animal rights (kittens are cute!) and world peace (violence is sad!).  Skipper and Midge (those silly ninnies!) were using my hot tub when I got home. Boy were they ever surprised to see me! (Diary, I just LOVE surprises, don’t you?) Midge nearly spilled her grape juice in the tub! I grabbed my kicky two-piece and joined them for a relaxing soak, caught up on my email (computers make me feel super smart!) and am about ready to slip into my canopy bed and dream the day away.  I invited Skipper and Midge to spend the night too, but they said they had to get up early in the morning. Boy, Diary, we know something about that, don’t we? Goodnight!

xoxo Barbie

March 3, 2009

Dear Diary,

I am so excited I can hardly stop smiling (like I have a choice, ha ha!).  I just got an RSVP from guess who, Diary? Ken! My beautiful, strong, somewhat Aryan former beau.  I admit Diary, I took our break-up five years ago pretty hard (heartbreak is icky!).  I gained 3/8 of an inch nn my waist; I could barely manage to brush my hair 100 times, and I couldn’t even bring myself to go shopping (!!!).   All of my friends warned me that Ken would never commit, but I just refused to give up on him.  We had such great times riding around in my super fun pink convertible, watching t.v. in my super neat dream house, vacationing at the Grand Canyon in my super great camper.  I didn’t even care that I worked so hard doing so many things while Ken mostly hung out by the super sweet pool; all that mattered was how happy we were (equality of the sexes sure is tricky, Diary).  But then one day as we were getting ready to head out in my super snazzy Jeep and go to the beach, Ken told me he wanted to take a break.  Oh Diary, you remember how devastated I was (being sad is yucky).  But now it looks like Ken wants another chance! Why else would he respond to my very special, super awesome birthday party? I just hope he remembers what I taught him about accessorizing!

xoxo Barbie

March 9, 2009

Happy Birthday to ME Diary!! I don’t feel a day over the first day I came out of the plastic injection line. I think it’s super important to take a minute on days like these and reflect on all the great experiences you’ve had in the last 50 years. Or I could spend most of the day trying to figure out what to wear to my super jazzy neat-o party! It’s a good thing my dream house came with dreamy walk-in closets! Speaking of closets, oh that Skipper! Yesterday I came home and found her looking through a box of some of Ken’s old jerseys. She said she and Midge were having a clothing drive. Aren’t those two just the bestest? (caring about people is cool). But seriously Diary, these last 50 years were just the bees knees and totally super. I have learned so much about the world and can’t help but feel that I have really made an impact in society, a super, super one at that! I just know that people from all over the globe will thank me for changing their lives forever! Ok, Diary, it’s almost time and I’ve narrowed it down to 15 outfits (choosing is a chore!) I want to look my super most sparkly best tonight, especially for Ken. His RSVP mentioned bringing a friend named Joe who is home from serving in the Marines (protecting our country is super great!). I look forward to meeting this young man; who knows, maybe I’ll introduce him to Skipper! She seems to like pants and jackets and boots and guns and things (guns can be super scary, but also super important!) Until tomorrow Diary

xoxo Barbie

From the Girls in Steno: Sound Bites to Chew On August 21, 2009

Tina Fey as Sarah Palin because, well, we like her better

The rumor mill churns with speculation that former Republican governor, Sarah “Death Panel” Palin, might relocate to the quaint shores of Rhode Island. The Palin camp is tight lipped (for a change) on these developments, but the The Anchorage Daily News, the cutting edge media source that broke the story on Alaskan oil “Alaska Contains Oil!” reported that Palin would finance her move with the $7 million dollar book deal and contract with FOX.  When asked what Palin would do in a state lacking moose, bear, snow machines, or lurking Russians, a Palin insider remarked that she might spend her days scrubbing the graffiti from her house and spying on Cuba.

A brief skirmish kicked up in media sources this week over photographs of First Lady Michelle Obama emerging from Air Force One on her family vacation to Arizona wearing shorts.  The skirmish ended when reality star Kate Gosselin did something equally as innocuous and un-newsworthy and everyone realized that there were more important issues to deal with than powerful women wearing ordinary clothes. Like, for instance, Sarah Palin moving to Rhode Island.

A story published on Forbes.com describes a new climate of sexual harassment, which is harder to detect than the skirt chasing, copy room groping type of antagonism once commonplace in offices everywhere.  Behaviors that range from suggestive text messaging (e.g. Lt me pt it in!”) to modifying your body language may send dangerous, subtle signals to an unappreciative coworker.  Fortunately for women, this same lack of subtlety is not an issue and direct responses such as “Say that again dirt bag and I’ll drop you like a bad habit on New Year’s Day,” or “What message does my foot connecting with your crotch send?” seem to go a long way in clearing up any confusion.

Joan from Mad Men. She kicks the "ass" in harassment

Brusha, Brusha, Brusha: Click Away Your Flaws! August 21, 2009

Just about to leave the house the other morning, I looked down and damn! a run in my new nylons. No worries, I thought, I just grabbed my mouse and pointed and click! rip begone! At work, another coworker began loudly describing how she had the most disgusting abscess drained behind her knee, right as I started to dig into my delicious salad. Damn! Oh wait, no need to get upset, just point, click and poof! Co-worker begone! The boyfriend who never remembers your birthday, click! The rude waitress at happy hour, click, click! Yes, if only life were like photoshop: click your way to perfection in every sense of the word, even more soothing than the mantra, “there’s an app for that.”

Dove Real Beauty Campaign

Photoshop has become the star of just about every magazine cover and advertisement in the last decade, but like any good celebrity, she’s not without her controversy. Like LiLo and Britney, she’s the star you love to hate.  Recently, Self Magazine found it-self caught with photoshop, pants around its digital ankles, over the forthcoming September issue featuring a touched up American Idol winner, Kelly Clarkson. The admission by Self editors that, ok, we slimmed, we smoothed, we lightened, lift, and lengthened comes about as surprising as Michael Vicks simpering admission that he’s a changed man (right, don’t expect PETA to hire you for any press tours anytime soon).

Images sell magazines, so the logic goes, and fantastically unrealistic images of completely unattainable standards are apparently the Vegas high-rollers of the fashion/beauty industry.  Editors, designers, artists, writers, and readers alike admit that the mystery to Giselle’s flawless cheekbones or Angelina’s unflappable hair is no mystery at all, rendered exquisitely through the one’s and zero’s that make-up photoshop’s indestructible DNA.  So why does this seemingly necessary trend provoke such strong reactions?  Is it the perfection-kiss of photoshop, lingering her breath over our images like some blood-sucking mc-hottie? Or is it the farce that the beauty industry maintains that treats readers, especially its female readers, like naive children listening to someone explain how Santa Clause zips around all over the globe in one night.

I appreciate Self owning up to a standard industry practice.  I thank you for not insulting my intelligence that mainstream media mirrors back to us the fantasies we want to see, want to believe in, to buy into, in both senses of the phrase.  It is important to provide transparency to the beauty industry (merci, you marvelously maddening Mad Men), especially for young women swept up in the ideals promised by the right shade of lipstick, the bank-breaking Jimmy Choos, or the mile-high cheekbones.  If you think about it, we should stop vilifying photoshop and instead praise her for the beauty culture insurgent she is: Slipping into the party with her sleek lines and ultra-whitened smile, she exposes the industry as a myth-making emporium, whispering in our ears as she makes the rounds, “Think for yourself.”

WWJD? August 19, 2009

Before Stephanie Meyer introduced us to sexual awakening via cloak and fangs, a prolific young author named Judy Blume (http://www.judyblume.com) was using her pen to school girls and boys (but let’s face it, mostly girls) in the ways of adolescent angst.  She prepared us for the ugliness of racial prejudice and the century’s end obsession with body culture.  She gave us a rare glimpse into the secret world of boys and their bodies, and notoriously, unleashed the mantra “I must, I must, I must increase my bust” into American girl culture.

Judy, you gave us so much and yet how could you see that even your vast stores of knowledge would dry up? How could you foresee the cringe-inducing experiences brought about through internet dating?  Did you have any idea that women would stop worrying about scurrying up the corporate ladder and start fixating on medical technology to preserve, enhance, and essentially create their biology from their stretched and pulled skin to their frozen embryos patiently waiting spring thaw?  Did you sense the slightest inkling that ill-fitting clothes and ridicule in school might be the least of girls’ worries, with their professional, political, and social reputations staked on the color of their blouses or their penchant for wearing shorts on a presidential family vacation.

Judy, a proud child of second-wave feminism, there is no way you could have prepared us for this exhilarating, confusing, and liberating climate women inhabit, but you armed us with the basics: a greater awareness about our bodies, our sexualities, a multi-cultural perspective and the understanding that women are connected by more than their biological make-up, and a healthy sense of humor about the unique and often mystifying gender roles we inhabit.

This forum places women and their experiences at the center of the many issues impacting their lives and shaping their contributions to culture in the twenty-first century.  I invite and encourage respectful and engaged discussion and debate as we inquire from time to time in moments of intellectual and political curiosity: What Would Judy Do?