Posted 21 February, 09on:
When we went to Chicago, I forced Hubski and the boys into the American Girl Store. I was secretly hoping Hubski would be intoxicated by all the cuteness and buy me a doll. No such luck. If I had flat out asked for one, he would have bought it. I did not ask because it seemed so indulgent. I have a hard time spending money on myself, but if he “offered,” how could I refuse? Well, subtly does not work on Hubski. If there had been time to go the American Girl Store in NYC, there is a good chance I would have left with a doll. It was already an indulgent trip. She would have been my souvenir of the trip.
All this time, I thought I wanted Ivy. She is the Chinese-American friend of Julie, girl of the 1970’s. For a very long time, I wanted to adopt a baby girl from China. There is a whole list of reasons, from political to purely emotional. For a whole list of reasons, it never happened. Ivy is what I imagined that little girl might look like one day.
Today, while emailing with Sue about dolls, I looked at the AG site again and saw Sonali. She is the friend of Chrissa, the newest “Girl of the Year.” Chrissa has been getting lots of press on the sewing groups and blogs because Chrissa has a craft room, complete with sewing machine. Chrissa is cute, but Sonali is stunning. She has gorgeous dark, thick hair and caramel skin. According to her “bio,” she is of Indian descent.
As I scrolled through the dolls, I noticed that all of my favorite dolls are the more ethnically diverse dolls. Marisol is Hispanic and loves to dance. Josephina is the historical doll from Mexico. Kaya is the American Indian doll. Jess McConnell is another Girl of the Year doll who is of mixed heritage, Japanese-American and Irish. The blonde hair and blue eyed dolls are pretty, but do not captivate me. The others have a more interesting look. To me, they look more like the children I see every day.
I am very tempted to just order one for myself. I cannot give a logical explanation for my obsession with dolls, other than it has been with me as long as I can remember. I first learned to sew by sewing clothes for my dolls with scraps leftover from my grandmother’s projects. As well as an early creative outlet, my dolls were an escape from reality. I am no longer looking for an escape from reality, but dolls still hold a special place in my heart.
My only fear is that I won’t be able to stop at just one doll. I run the risk of becoming the Crazy Doll Lady. You know the one… children have moved out, converts their bedrooms into doll rooms, number of dolls reaches triple digits…
Am I nuts? Which one would choose? Do I need to get a grown up life?