Before I had my first child there were many
rules and ways of doing things that I believed I would adhere to – no TV being
the biggest one. Pretty much all of them
have fallen by the wayside (I know most episodes of Peppa Pig word for word) in
the reality of parenting and the hectic pace of life with three small
children. The one that I have held on to
with dog like vengeance is ‘Barbie is not welcome here’… When my nieces recently requested Barbie’s
for their birthday I hoped against all hopes that they wouldn’t get them, hence
spurring a green eyed ‘I want a Barbie’ from my now 4 year old, Princess
obsessed daughter.
I should clarify that I loved Barbie as a
little girl. I clearly recall the
debates and deals with my little brother trying to get him to play Barbie with
me. ‘I’ll play Lego with you 4 times if
you play Barbie with me now’. He was
never very keen but in hindsight I guess Ken was a bit hard for a young boy to
really relate to.
I can’t even remember now the point when
Barbie got kicked under the bed and eventually into boxes in the back of the
cupboard – late Primary school/early High School maybe. But I do remember discovering feminism in
High School, reading The Beauty Myth (Naomi Wolf) in great disgust at the cosmetic industry
and outrage at society reinforcing this image of beauty. Of course, I also got on the wagon of ‘Barbie
is evil’. And I’ve never gotten off.
As I have aged I can see all that is wrong
with Barbie. I once read that if her
measurements were to scale on a real woman she would likely be anorexic, unable
to walk due to consistent high heel wear, have chronic back ache due to her
sizeable boobs and surely snap in half with her tiny waist (OK, so I completely
made the last bit up). I don’t want my
girls aspiring to this image and I don’t want them judging themselves against
Barbie as if a reality.
But there is more to the hatred and after
reading an article by Karen Maezen
Miller (thanks to recommendation by a friend) talking about this very topic, I
was forced to question where my hatred of Barbie really comes from and whether
she is in fact the vilan.
I have struggled with my own body image for
most of my adult life and some of my late teenage years. I have a love hate relationship with my body
that up until the birth of my three children was more hate than love. I was (and still am) always telling myself
that if I lost X kg I would be happier, funnier, more successful, have more
friends etc. None of this is new. We sadly read about it all the time – usually
in insightful articles wedged between fashion spreads featuring air brushed
size 0 models, but that’s not really my beef (for today).
My greatest hope for my two girls is that
they grow up with a healthy respect for their own bodies, a love of what they
have and an ability to use that to their full advantage. I never want them to spend one day of their
precious lives dreaming of being something different to their frankly perfect
selves. I never want them to compare
themselves to anyone whether an image in a magazine or their best friend –and
come up wanting. I want them to
appreciate differences and love what they have, unconditionally.
I know a great deal of that comes from
me. I never discuss my weight around
them. I never talk about my own feelings
about my body and I never ever talk about fat or dieting. When my husband and I talk to our girls about
food it’s about what makes you strong and healthy. The ‘f’ word is banned in our house. When my daughter tells me I have a big tummy
(with that gorgeous wide eyed innocence of a 4 year old stating the facts – I
do have a big tummy…) I say ‘yes I do and that’s OK.’
So where does Barbie fit into this? I’m starting to ask myself the same
thing. On reflection of this recent
article that I read I found myself wondering how much influence Barbie really
had on my own body image. If I’m to be
honest it’s very little. I clearly
remember being very confident and happy in myself up until I was about 14 (way
after Barbie got kicked to the curb). I
honestly remember looking in magazines and thinking I didn’t look that different
to the models. I smiled a lot, I had
pretty eyes and nice hair. I never really
compared their bodies to mine because I honestly didn’t see my size 14 body as
that much different to their size 8.
No, the damage to my own self-image wasn’t
caused by Barbie – it took place much closer to home. It was planted and reinforced by friends and
family – those closest around me wanting to protect me by ‘encouraging’ me to
lose weight. Boys at school starting to
pick out the thinner girls as the more desirable, people asking ‘helpfully’
if I really needed to eat that. The list
goes on. Sure, it’s been reinforced by
the likes of Barbie and the images in magazines but in all honesty that’s not
what put the ideas there in the first place.
So I am starting to wonder what will happen
if Barbie is allowed in the house. Will
we all go nuts and start living on birdseed and cabbage and spend our savings
on cosmetic surgery? Will she really
cause my daughters to become filled with self-doubt and loathing? I’m starting to think the answer is no.
As long as I can provide them with a strong
image of a woman who loves her body for its ability to provide her with three
beautiful children, its strength to ensure she can care
for them and as a desirable creature (thanks to a loving and openly
affectionate husband) maybe that’s enough.
Maybe Barbie isn’t really the devil. Maybe the devil lives closer to home and is
more within our own control than we think.
