Barbie Unleashed

I had made a fleeting visit to London to do some childminding and to see my granddaughter perform in a theatre production of The Railway Children. The final Test match at the Oval was taking place, it was only 2 miles away and the scoreboard was fizzing along. Alas, my daughter had arranged tickets for the Ritzy cinema in Brixton. I was pleased to see that Oppenheimer was on but our tickets were for Barbie. Her sweet revenge, we had not let our daughters have Barbie dolls. What was wrong with proper dolls or teddies, climbing trees, card games, bikes, books, swimming, children's TV, walks and films? 

Barbie was promoted as the fount of happiness for girls when it was a marketing tool for fast fashion and encouraged sedentary activities. I had not registered what a success it had been in this respect. Perhaps Barbie is responsible for the exponential growth of beauty treatments, makeup, glossy magazines, TV reality programmes and fast-changing fashion trends during my lifetime. 

What I had not understood is that it was all the fault of men like Ken who obsessed over their Barbie look-alikes. I have always preferred natural, sparky, healthy-looking women without all the glitz and glam. Although I slept through parts of the film, I did enjoy some of the film makers self-mockery of the Barbie cult such as when the old-fashioned dolls were trashed. When Barbie states that “I’m not pretty anymore. I’m not ‘stereotypical Barbie’ pretty,” the narrator, Helen Mirren, observes “Note to the filmmakers: Margot Robbie is the wrong person to cast if you want to make this point.” I thought that Margot Robbie was natural, sparky and healthy looking. It was just all the Kens I couldn't stomach.

Not Ken