Finally, Barbie

Older girls surrounded me when I was growing up. My Best Friend was one year older than I. Her sister was four years older than she. Other friends, with whom I attended Lithuanian (Saturday) school, were three years older than I.

Older girls had more interesting dolls. Everyone, it seemed, played with Barbie. When I was about four years old, I begged Santa Claus for a Barbie. When we opened our gifts that Christmas Eve, I was shocked and disappointed to see a "Tammy" doll, not a genuine Barbie. My Parents explained that Santa had concluded that I was not old enough for a Barbie. I was so bummed!

I attributed the arrival of Tammy to one of two things. My Parents either selected Tammy because she was less anatomically charged than Barbie, or, because they were not Americans, they didn't quite "get" the branding thing and thought that one teen doll was isomorphic to another.

Suburban Chicago, 1964. I got my Barbie! Barbie is wearing the pink gown and red velvet cape that 1960s girls will recognize. I sit on my Parents' full-sized bed. An aqua-blue chenille bedspread covers the bed. Visible on my Mom's nightstand is a rotary phone with a shoulder rest. Mom used the shoulder rest so that she could talk to patients, hands free, while she knitted.