Sunny Days in DC

Jack of All Trades, Master of 3-ish.

Yay Feminism! I Eat Barbies….

on December 6, 2012

A friend of mine turned me on to Jezebel. Every mom I know has their trick for staying up all night with a screaming baby. Mine used to be Cracked, and it still is, but there’s only so many dick jokes you can read (I know, I was surprised, too) before you think to yourself, “I wonder how kids in London would go about setting up BDSM dens and selling African slaves?” Am I right? Yeah, I totally am…

So, on to Jezebel I went.

And it’s a great mix of actual news, with some snark feminist-y wit. I really enjoy it! Except for the parts that seem like they connect with everyone else in the room, except for me.

Do you ever get that feeling? You know, where everyone else in a crowded room seems to understand the context of some speech, or maybe you missed a class in college one day and the next time you came in, everyone else seemed to know what was going on and you had absolutely no idea what your professor was talking about? I feel that way about body politics.

I SO want to be like, “Yeah! My body is beautiful! Magazine covers can’t make me feel like crap!!” But the fact is… they really don’t. Growing up, I never actually looked at these women on the covers of magazines and thought, “my body should look that way,” or, “if only I was skinny like that, my problems would be solved!” It’s not that I KNEW they were airbrushed, because 15 years ago, I don’t know if anyone outside of that industry even knew the term “airbrush.” It was more like…. I mean… who walks into a museum, sees a Picasso, and thinks, “Gosh, if only I had two eyes on one side of my head, and my nose was under my chin… I would TOTALLY have my shit together!!!”

Fucking no one. That’s insane. It’s a drawing, and not real.

And I think that’s how I always felt about these magazine covers. They have so much makeup on, you could press a dip stick against their cheeks, and see if they need their oil changed. It’s not real.

Which is what confused me about Barbies. I’m completely fascinated (and in a strangely NON-judgmental way) that some little girls out there looked at a Barbie doll and thought, “hard plastic tits, and sharp, pointy hands that you can use to pick your dog’s nose… WHY NOT ME, G-D?!?!?!” I mean, I also had a Rainbow Brite doll, but nobody really walks around in multicolored clothing like that, fighting crime, right?


<<Holy shit, you guys!!!>>

I also used to chew on the rubbery legs of my Barbies. In retrospect, I begin to see signs of concern…

14 responses to “Yay Feminism! I Eat Barbies….

  1. The feet molded into perma tippy toes! Who wants that?! So uncomfortable!

    • H. Stern says:

      Omigosh awesome! I completely forgot about that!

      But, ok, think about it like this:

      Who handed a He-Man toy to a little boy, and said: “Ok, kid. The lesson I want you to take away from this is that society expects you to run around in a loin cloth and orange bowl cut, pulling giant pieces of cutlery from your underwear, while fighting magical space-skeletons who live in mountains”? Parents would be like, “Are… are you high right now?” so, likewise, I really didn’t assume that the world wanted me to be made of hard plastic, and have seams in my legs where the machinery joined me together.

      I think it’s sad that some girls must have felt that way, but I’m completely fascinated by it. How did they draw the line? What makes you think society expected you to look like She-Ra, but not like Cheetara from the Thundercats? Cause that bitch was LEGIT! SHE WAS A FUCKING CHEETAH!!!! You’re basically winning at life at that point.

    • ekgo says:

      Me. And my best friend. Because if you think about it, if your feet are designed to fit into 10 inch heels then you can WEAR 10 inch heels and your feet won’t hurt.
      The problem comes when you’re out shoveling 2 feet of snow and you have to wear snow boots with 10 inch heels and that puts you up way above the snow so you have to bend down further to get to it and you put your back out. That’s just dangerous.
      Of course, if you’re a person who wears 10 inch heels, a la Lady Gaga, you’re going to have a bunch of people hanging around who just do everything for you. A la Lady Gaga.
      And that is why I want pointy plastic feet.

  2. John says:

    mmmm plastic tits… heh 😉

  3. ekgo says:

    Ok, so…did you throw the Van Gogh reference in there to illustrate your “In a room but you don’t get it” theory? Because I’m looking around at your commenters and I’m thinking, “Is anyone going to point out that it is Picasso who draws people with body parts in odd places. Van Gogh just cuts off body parts. And paints a lot of swirls, irises, and his face” and no one did and now I’m all, “Crap. I missed the inside joke, didn’t I? Ok. I’d better not say anything, then. I need to look like I fit in.” And now I’m just panicking that I have no idea what’s going on and I’m making stuff up in my own mind.
    This is not a good way to end the day. But wine is. I am going to go home and have wine.

    • H. Stern says:


      Thank you for pointing that out. Gonna go change it now, and hide my head in shame.

      • ekgo says:

        You’re going to have to delete my comment then, too, otherwise EVERYONE is going to be all, “Wait, what did I miss? That EKGO person is all high and stuff because, dude, it SAYS ‘Picasso’ RIGHT THERE in the post, dumbass!” and then … Crap. This is just not working out well for me at all. I need to stop being a librarian everywhere I go. Damnation all the way to hell.

        • H. Stern says:


          Or they could just read this comment thread, and realize I probably went back and made the change. You know. Whatever.

          • ekgo says:

            Or they’re going to think we’re both high on some weird under-the-sink chemical (because, seriously, I’ve seen enough TV shows to know that you never need to buy drugs because you can just make them at home)

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