There Are No Facts, Only Interpretations

Behold the legendary Barbie, renowned internationally for her beauty:

“There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth.”

For many, she is an impossible standard, an aspiration beyond the grasp of the girls who hold her in their grasp. In a dynamic comparable to the tail wagging the dog, the child who seems to control the social outings and private dramas of Barbie's life is actually having her future social and private life directed by the plastic figurine. The flawlessness and glamour that is conjured up in the naive imagination of the young girl sets an unreachable bar for the adult woman, who suffers trying to emulate her childhood companion. Barbie is tall; her long hair is devoid of split ends; her body matches all the prescriptive adjectives laid out in women's magazines — trim toned, firm, and shapely; her breasts perk indefatigably against the law of gravity; her makeup never smudges; not a single hair betrays the smoothness of her body; she has a thigh gap you could pass all the academic literature about her through, and if her flesh was more pliant, she'd undoubtedly have a bikini bridge; all her clothes fit perfectly and she never gains weight.  

Sell her, give her away, throw her in the trash — it doesn't matter; the emergent woman cannot escape the spectre of the doll, telling her of her inadequacies and laughing at her attempts to be glamourous. Barbie's angular hands point at the imperfections that litter the woman's life. She tells you that you are not happy enough, not strong enough, not sexy enough, not confident enough. Nobody will want you and nobody will like you, especially yourself. Barbie is the plastic embodiment of a narrative that suppresses women's potential, crippling their self-esteem in childhood. She is a wolf in sheep's clothing, a sleeper agent, and a despicable anti-feminist. 

Or so the story goes. We must keep in mind, however, that Barbie is voiceless, and all such stories are interpretations that she cannot contradict. I propose another interpretation, one that doesn't vilify a woman for being the best she can be and doesn't blame all your insecurities on a lump of plastic. Is it really Barbie's fault your kid can't see that a figurine missing nipples and genitalia is an inaccurate deception of what a woman should be? Are their eyes blind to the many shapes and sizes of women? Kids are one thing, but it's astounding that adults also overlook the doll's obvious deformities when blaming her for misleading youths. Barbie is a beauty wrought out of a monstrously misshaped body. Her feet are permanently arched upward, relieved only by orthotic high heels. It is widely assumed that this is the cause of her chronic back pains, but it is much more likely that the cause is lazy-minded, mediocre sociologists riding her around as a hobby-horse. Her hair can never grow back; like a lady in declining years, once you snip it short, it remains that way permanently. Her knees are creaky, her digits are pretty much webbed, her limbs are clearly disproportionate, and her inability to excrete toxins from her body must surely cause her illness and pain. She fashioned a malformed mess into something glamorous and attractive. Her beauty lies not in her apparent flawlessness, but in her victorious march from ugly duckling to graceful swan. Her firm body was not granted by nature but (as evidenced by gym Barbie) by hours of exercise. But all the hard work in the world cannot undo the prejudices of others. Some people call themselves feminists, yet shun a woman just because she has made herself pretty. 

"One must need strength, otherwise one will never have it." 

Barbie came from a difficult background. Varvara Bzovsky was an orphan who was adopted by a wealthy Californian couple. Her deformities suggest she may have been a Chernobyl victim or mutilated as a child. When she arrived in the United States, she tried her best to fit in, shortening her name and making an effort to become a Californian girl. Undoubtedly, she was bullied in her school in Malibu, because she was weird, but she had already developed the strength she needed to endure the mean comments (something she still has to endure to this day).   

She adorned herself with colour and glitter because she had witnessed true misery and knew that she couldn't afford to entertain it. She hoists a permanent smile on her face, because she defies adversity, misery and loneliness. You could flush her down the toilet, throw her out a window, have GI Joe asphyxiate her and derive sexual arousal from it (even though you are only seven years old and don't know what it means), but she would still keep smiling.  She is used to being unloved. She is mass produced, shipped all over the world, and disposed of when she has outlived her purpose. She can never bear children, and her body is not equipped for the pleasure involved in procreation. She would be a great disappointment to her would-be suitors; despite being able to do a front split, she is unable to perform most sex positions. She takes solace from the fact that her boyfriend and closest friends are burdened by the same inadequacy. To the outside world they are a freak show, trying in futility to please each other. What they don't see is that even their most diabolical sexual activities are infused by a tenderness and understanding of their tragic disabilities.     

"What do you regard as most humane? To spare someone shame."

If Barbie is beautiful, it is because what resides inside shines outward so brightly. What you see is not an impossible standard but what hard work and fortitude look like. So, I ask you now: is it fair to reject a woman for her beauty or take your kid's shortcomings out on others? If your child is fat and dumb, the presence of Barbie dolls won't change anything, and she will grow up ill-equipped for what adult life throws at her. Barbie is an inspiration, but only for those who are open to being inspired. I pray that the next generation will not be as stupid and useless as you assume, because, in that case, I foresee a world that is nothing but a lifeless wasteland. The cockroaches will continue to reign supreme without us to bother them — the cockroaches and all the non-biodegradable material we leave behind, including millions of Barbie dolls. Your children won't survive, but she certainly will. Some might retort that her inability to decompose gives her an unfair advantage, but people of such low calibre have no divination of real character. Barbie will endure as a testament of our short sojourn on this planet. Our legacy will be a plastic symbol of the very best of us, what we could have been — strength, resilience, and a smile greeting even the worst of circumstances.

“What is the seal of liberation? Not to be ashamed in front of oneself.”