A Toy Story

If Barbie is really to blame for girls' distorted body images, why isn't there at least a small generation of young men trying desperately to look like Ninja Turtles?

Don't get me wrong; I've got nothing against finger pointing. It's just that I think we should give girls more credit. Heck, it was pretty obvious to me that Barbie and her little sister Skipper were just toys. As much as I coveted Skipper's thick mane of straight blond hair, I noticed it grew in rather unnatural clumps out of holes drilled in her empty plastic head. And for goodness sake, where were the nipples? Even as a six year old, I sensed something was amiss.

So now this young woman comes along and builds a really cool life size papier mache Barbie which has eating disorder survivors and professionals everywhere nodding their heads. Finally, the unattainable female shape to which girls have supposedly aspired for a half century teeters precariously on her skinny little ankles for all the world to see. Aha. And all these years I was blaming my mother.

Okay, Barbie, with her absurdly large nipple-less breasts and impossibly small waist may have been more of an influence in some girls' lives than she was in mine (to me she was just another shiksa; we had very little in common anyway), but still, even the most avid fans must have known that nobody's feet can actually be stuck permanently in the high heel position. At least nobody who's still smiling. Far more disturbing are the airbrushed images of models assaulting us from billboards and magazines and "reality" shows everywhere. Women who actually seem real, whose idealized skin and body parts actually can seem attainable. Life size Barbie is certainly scary looking, but she's ridiculous enough to not be a threat.

Frankly, I kind of wish the men of my generation had taken G.I. Joe a bit more seriously.