It was the holy grail of treasures: The Barbie® Styling Head.
To some, frightening as a clown with her soulless eyes and synthetic hair; to me, she was beauty, class, the essence of chic, and as unobtainable as one of those large as life dolls that were always featured in the Sears catalog but were never delivered topped with a a big shiny bow.
I’m not sure why this treasure of mystery was never made to be mine, but I do know that I seethed with jealousy and contemptment when I’d see her carelessly thrown into a toybox of a friend’s room. Here was this…this…head, and she was all yours to doll up (no pun intended) with her included makeup pallets and curlers and hairbrushes. More often than not, there she would be, upside down next to the Barrel of Monkeys, with what was left of her hair standing on end, and face stained with mother’s blue eye shadow and frosted lipstick. (Once “real” makeup hit her plastifabulous face, it never seemed removeable.)
If she had been mine, I would have carefully curled her tresses, and applied her makeup ever so perfectly. And I would have named her Erica, because when I was eight, I thought Erica was a wonderfully exotic name.
No matter. I had plenty a-Barbie, and all the makeup to practice with on myself that I wanted…courtesy of my mother’s dresser drawer. Despite my love of dolls, Easy Bake oven, makeup, hair, designer jeans, and Tiger Beat magazine, I grew into a strong and independent woman. And a woman who remains as obsessed with makeup and primping, hair, style, easy baking, and the memory of Tiger Beat magazines.
I love my makeup. I line my makeup up on the bathroom counter (well, I really just sort of leave it lying around slobbishly) and sigh at its wonder. I love to play and experiment with it, and I love–when I have the extra cash–to buy it. Lots of it. Everything from the most expensive pot of lipgloss to a drug store has-been. I love the trends and remember the wonder that was Wet and Wild lip liner #666 in the early 90s as if it was a fond family photograph.
For me, it’s fun, and I love the feeling of playing grown up. I love to make different looks, and I aspire one day to be a crazy old throwback to Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. I think makeup is a personal choice. For some, it has no impact. For others, it can be empowering. Does it come down to image and how we use our sexuality? Perhaps. Is it more a habit passed down from generation to generation? Could be. What I do know is, it is a statement, and one that makes me feel good and motivated and confident. Even when I doll myself up to simply watch TV.
And if I had a Barbie® Styling Head today? You can bet on the fact that every now and then–in the comfort of my own home, in my PJs and calvacade of beauty products, I would carefully curl her tresses and apply her makeup ever so perfectly.
And I might even name her Erica.
You are speaking my language, sister!
Loved my barbie styling head (and everything else you mentioned), so wth went wrong with me. I haven’t applied makeup since I went to #3’s baby shower (he’s 15 months), I haven’t gotten my hair cut since I was preggers w/#2 (he’s 4), and I haven’t read a full issue of US magazine (my new Tiger Beat) in at least 6 months. This is disgusting, and I blame it entirely on the angel, the terror, and the ruffian that I live with.
It’s so easy to fall into that isn’t it? But it is also a terrific excuse for all of us parents to be wary of. Not disgusting and nothing wrong with you…I’ve been there–heck, any mother has! But every now and then, you have to force yourself to lock yourself into the bathroom and doll yourself up, or go to the salon, or curl up with a great celebrity gossip magazine and have some you time. You know, until they all come screaming for you!
- Ki
Passing by via SITs this morning, and glad I did. What a fun post! I love make up but I’m not one to overly adorn myself. My personal philosophy is never leave the house without lipstick on.
Have a great day
My philosophy has always been never leave the house without a little blusher on my cheeks. Or zit concealer. Or deodorant…as I get older, however, the more I think I may need a dose of Stacey and Clinton. — Ki
I’m feeling a need to hunt for a Barbie Styling Head if for no other reason than to rekindle a time when my little girl desired one and never got it..Sometimes wishes can’t come true if they aren’t expressed loudly enough!!!
By the way, I had no idea that a mom’s dresser drawer was available for public usage, However, I fondly recall attaching my own mom’s clip-on earrings and fondling her costume jewelry when she wasn’t around. I suppose if it’s not locked up…!
Loved this story. Your writing always instills a memory.
I’d love an Easy Bake oven too! LOL. Homemade jewelry will do fine though. Gypsy necklaces! Oh come on, like you didn’t know I rifled through your drawers? I STILL have a couple necklaces that I borrowed as my own treasures. And you had this great frosted pick lipstick–and I swear I haven’t seen the color since 1979–that I used to put on. Guess when my prime time was for picking around your stuff? That’s right. When I was supposed to be practicing my clarinet. hehe. xo - Ki