Admittedly, the Barbie movie was entertaining. From set designs to costuming, the movie was visual feast, whipping our eyeballs left and right with ultra saturated blues and pinks, clever quips. Barbie was sparkling, Ken, hilarious — the story pulled at our heart strings, albeit clumsily.
Then, there was Weird Barbie. (Warning, spoilers ahead!)
Weird Barbie was the true nostalgia in the film, despite the cloying dialogue and jarring narrative. Seeing her portrayed as the oracle of wisdom amidst the chaos erupting between Barbieland and Real World instantly brought me back to my childhood. The kid that played too hard? That was me. And maybe you. So when I read that Mattel was actually going to produce a Weird Barbie, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh or cry. Of course Mattel was going to make one. Weird Barbie stole the show.
I have a vivid memory of the regret creeping in while I peered through tufts of blonde saran fibres and examined the tiny holes behind Barbie’s beige polymer sphere of a head. Every haphazard strand stuck up to proclaim: Tough luck, Barbie’s hair doesn’t grow back and this hackjob of a “layered pixie cut” is going to be it for her. I also remember the lightbulb moment when I concluded that I could dress up Barbie in anything, it could even be toilet paper!
Play is crucial for children’s cognitive, social and emotional development. To be able to play “too hard” is a gift that lets kids encounter expansively through their own language. My weird Barbie was teacher, right of passage guide and co-creator, bridging the questions, differences and insights I was waking up to in my world compared to Barbie’s universe, for better or worse. A doll with magic marker tattoos scrawled on its back represents more than its physicality. These moments served as budding introductions to complex concepts of money, career, control, aspirations, choice and chance, not to mention, body image. They were an assertion of self-expression and rudimentary self-education on how the world seemed to operate.
Now, we are in 2023 and AI is at its current zeitgeist, resulting in creative thinking processes ultra accelerated in machine-learning shorthand. I think the tactility of toys deftly worn and played with “too hard” by a child seems almost sacred. But I understand the temptation to produce Weird Barbie. It’s a powerful and marketable concept. I also understand the desire for some to buy it for kids in an effort to widen their horizon and show them another example that it’s okay to look, dress, sound different. Or maybe they just really enjoyed the movie character. At 36, my own knee-jerk reaction was somewhat close to frothing at the mouth to pick one up. But still, purchasing an Official Weird Barbie by Mattel feels trite.
Getting on my soapbox, it needs to be said: the doll is also still rendered only as blonde, blue eyed, skinny, and white. Representation matters. There have been numerous studies on how diversity in toys can shape a child’s world view. I think about my godchildren and niblings, how their introduction to beauty, worth, weight and standards have begun in their very young years. Whether intentional or not, Official Weird Barbie by Mattel sets an ideal for a concept which should remain boundless. Just think of the scene where the suit in Century City assures Ken, “Oh, we’re still doing patriarchy. We’ve just gotten better at hiding it.”
Curiously, Mattel’s production of Weird Barbie dismantles its own campaign for “purposeful play”. That said, if the intended customer pool were truly grown ups, there are better ways to extend the creativity and leverage the popularity of Weird Barbie than simply putting a doll in a box. A dedicated page so people could recreate their own childhood weird Barbies and have those made to orders might have landed more authentically. I can only imagine the feedback they would receive from a global call to encourage people to submit photos, share stories of their weird Barbies. Even more exciting would have been the prospect of featuring those entries for the world to enjoy and vote on their favourites, with winners being put into production and then unveil that the movie character would also be available to purchase. But that’s just me.
Weird Barbie should have stayed a movie character, a symbol and a reminder. A lively, customisable and comfortable costume? Yes. A limited-edition collectors’ item for adults? I still think it’s missing the point.
Originality is scarce. Along with being a vessel for originality, Weird Barbie has teetered into becoming a universal cultural denominator for multiple generations. It seems to be profoundly important to leave the genesis and journey of any weird Barbie as it was — unhurried, spontaneous and personal. Not ready for pre-order.
A reader suggested that if you really want to buy a weird Barbie, you can probably be find one at your neighbourhood thrift store or garage sale. So much better for the planet. Thank you Melinda "Millie" K. Dooley!
