Pink, Plastic, & Personal: How Barbie Reminded Me What it Means to be a Mother

I was obsessed with Barbie. 

• Barbie dream house – ✔️
• Barbie camper – ✔️
• Barbie pool – ✔️
• 3 Barbie cars – ✔️
• Barbie pets (including horses) – ✔️
• An entire suitcase filled with pink outfits for every conceivable occasion (and then some) – ✔️
• 32 different Barbies, a Skipper, and a handful of Kens – ✔️

Spoiler alert: This post contains reference to The Barbie Movie.

My Barbie Obsession

Pink and Pretty Barbie was my favorite. Probably because she was one of my first dolls. But also because of her wardrobe– a luxurious faux-fur trimmed stole, shimmering long pink skirt or pants, sparkling top with silver glitter, and an over-the-top furry trimmed hat that took the whole ensemble to the next level. (What was it with Barbie and her hats?)

My favorite part of every outfit was the tiny plastic shoes with stiletto heels in every shade of pink imaginable. I dreamed about having a closet filled with pink pumps one day. Come to think of it, I’ve never owned a pair of pink shoes. And, considering my work-from-home, walk-the-dogs lifestyle, and flat feet, I doubt I ever will.  

Barbie was a fashion icon to me and so many little girls. My Barbie heyday was in the early eighties, which was well-before Barbie was reimagined as a career woman in a whole host of occupations, from teacher and doctor to President and robotics engineer, to encourage little girls that they could grow up to be anything they wanted to be.***

For me, Barbie was just a doll with absurdly unrealistic body proportions, a swoon-worthy wardrobe, and many costly toys I now wonder how she could afford. I suppose Barbie was the first woman to make her living as an influencer. And what an influencer she is!

Rethinking Barbie

As I grew up, my love affair with Barbie fizzled. I spent my teen and early adult years contemptuous of this stupid toy that somehow continued to represent the unattainable yet ideal female body type. The objectification of women, rampant consumerism, and obsession with clothes and beauty. Not for me, thanks! 

I remember being slightly disappointed when my daughter requested a Barbie Dream House for Christmas. It somehow felt like a failure on my part that all these years later, kids, my kid in particular, would still idolize this stupid doll. Hadn’t I shown her better?

My daughter is now seventeen (and never loved Barbie as I did. She preferred the more extensive and younger doll empire with entire stores and restaurants devoted to its plastic people). It’s been a long time since the word Barbie has been uttered in my house. Until recently . . . 

Because unless you’ve been living under a rock, it’s impossible to miss the media buzz circulating The Barbie Movie. A movie that I admittedly knew little about other than the fact that it was satirical and had managed to influence everything from nails to fashion to home decor for well over a year before its release. It seems like overnight, the world turned pink–you’ve got to hand it to Barbie; she takes her job as an influencer seriously. 

Barbie was on my radar, but I wasn’t interested in reentering the bubble of pink perfection.

Barbie Movie Mania

The other night, however, all that changed.

My son, who’s attending school for entertainment, wanted to see the movie but said, “I can’t go to that movie alone. Do you want to see it, Mom?” And my daughter, who had already seen the film, jumped at the chance to go again, “I’m still trying to process it all,” she said. “I need to see it again.”

I love spending time with my kids, so with only some reluctance, I swiped my card for the sixty-six dollar charge for three movie tickets, three drinks, and a small popcorn.

I’m not much of a movie-goer. And it’s not just the price that scares me away. I don’t like sitting still (or being quiet), few movies hold my attention for longer than an hour, and theater seats give me the heebie-jeebies. I mean, how often do they clean those things?

But when your kids ask you to do something, you do it. And boy, am I glad I jumped into the latest Barbie craze. 

I’m not the first, nor likely the last, to write about the summer blockbuster starring a controversial plastic doll. And based on the existing commentary, the movie is just as contentious as its namesake. A fact that only serves to underscore the need for films like The Barbie Movie.

This movie packs a lot to think about into its two-hour run-time. In fact, I struggled to pick just on theme to focus on this post. From good pure fun, including carefully choreographed full-cast production numbers, interpretations of which will likely appear on more than one competition stage during the next dance season, to tons of pop culture references from the obvious to the obscure, and of course, to serious conversations about what it means to be a woman, a mother, yourself. This movie tackles tough subjects like the objectification of women, gender roles, identity, the complexity of human emotion and relationships, life and death, agency, and more.

The Barbie Influence

The movie hooked me from its opening scene – an homage to the beginning of Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey,” in which primates discover the use of tools in what has been coined “the Dawn of Man.”

The Barbie Movie opens with little girls playing with dolls while the narrator (Helen Mirin) informs viewers, “Since the beginning of time, since the first little girl ever existed, there have been dolls. But the dolls were always and forever baby dolls, until…” And then a much larger-than-life classic Barbie doll in a bikini, complete with her famous perpetually tiptoeing feet, is revealed to the girls. Upon seeing Barbie and recognizing the possibilities, the girls smash their outdated baby dolls and the antiquated gender roles they represent to bits. 

It’s a comical and clever way to introduce a film with critical observations about the gigantic influence of a doll on womanhood. And immediately lets viewers know that they are in for more than a fun romp through Barbie Land.

“We mothers stand still so that our daughters can look back and see how far they’ve come.”

Ruth Handler, The Barbie Movie

But while I appreciated and endorsed Gloria’s (played by America Ferrara) monologue about the impossibility of being a woman in America as much as every other woman (at least the ones not afraid to label themselves as feminists), I’m not going to get into the political implications of the movie. Because for me, that was not what made The Barbie Movie magical.

Standing Still . . .

Instead, it was one simple line, delivered at the movie’s end by Rhea Perlman, who played Barbie’s creator Ruth Handler: “We mothers stand still so that our daughters can look back and see how far they’ve come.”

Yes! I wanted to scream. This! Exactly!

The line took my breath away. 

I felt seen. By Hollywood. As a middle-aged mom of teens. (Actually, I felt seen throughout this entire movie, which is unusual for a summer blockbuster.)

As I stare down a milestone birthday, the same year my daughter leaves for college, I feel all the feels. And many of them aren’t pretty.

I am immensely proud of her and super excited for her future. I can’t wait to see what she conquers next.

But I am also sad. I will miss her tremendously when she’s gone. In a physical, aching way that tugs at my heart every time I think about it. (Read more about the bittersweet feelings of watching your kiddos grow up.)

But it’s more than that . . . 

As we visit college campuses and I watch her face light up with excitement (or not), I’m overcome with nostalgia. It doesn’t feel like that long ago that I was starting out, imagining what my life could be. 

And now, here I am, watching it fade away. So many dreams left unfulfilled. So much promise and potential unrealized. Sometimes when I think about what my eighteen-year-old self imagined, I feel like I let that girl down.

I’ve been wallowing too much in the “what ifs?” lately.

But Barbie brought me back to reality. 

What it Means to Be a Mother

I have no regrets about how I spent the last twenty-one years. Being a mother was my number one priority. It was a conscious choice. It wasn’t isn’t always easy. There were lots of tears. Motherhood demands sacrifices. But those are sacrifices I’ve made willingly.

I still have my dreams. I’ve just put them on hold for now to chase the most important dream of all: that my daughter will be able to realize her dreams. 

When we were girls, we were told we could “have it all.” The problem is that most people who told us that didn’t have it all. Many of them didn’t even want it all. But the allure of having it all, of creating our own Barbie Land, was so enticing that we spent years chasing this goal. And we were left exhausted, overwhelmed, and disenchanted.

Just like Barbie’s unrealistic beauty standards are unattainable, so is the elusive promise of “having it all.” 

Dreams for our daughters

We have to give up on this unattainable goal and be more realistic about what’s possible. We have to. Because I want more than disillusionment for my daughter.

I want happiness and joy and the knowledge that she is enough. I want her to have a career, a family, and financial independence. But also the freedom to rest, an identity of her own, and personal fulfillment.

I want her to put down her phone and see the world around her. I want her to know what it feels like to unplug, to get lost in a good book, or in a favorite hobby.

Most of all, I want her to know her worth. And to love herself, wrinkles and cellulite and sadness and all. I want her to stop worrying about other people’s expectations and live life on her own terms.

I hope for her. I hope that her future is brighter than our past. 

But still I worry . . . 

Have I done enough? Have I been a good enough example? Has the world changed enough to let her be herself? Is there room for women at the top?

The answer is I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. And hope for the best.

I know it won’t be all sunshine and rainbows. Everyday won’t be “The Best Day.” But as Barbie demonstrated with her choice to leave Barbie Land behind and join the real world, real is always better than perfect.

P.S. Go see The Barbie Movie!