Desperate Housewives of Mattel

8/14/2019 Desperate Housewives of Mattel

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DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES OF MATTEL

BY ANN PICCIRILLO

Herethese have been in my hall closet for 35 years, my mother

said as she handed me two ragged vinyl casesone white and blue; the

other flamingo pink. My eyes focused on the familiar script labeled on

the pink case BARBIE(Barbie is a registered trademark ofMattel). For

some reason it was an awkward moment; like unexpectedly meeting an

old flame and pretending that you meant to leave the house without

wearing make-up, and that you always walked around without a bra. I

shoved them (the vinyl cases, not my boobs, although there was an iffy

moment) underneath my sons train table.

I waited until I was alone to open the cases. I was afraid to see how

the last 35 years treatedBarbie. I chose to open theBarbie Dream

House case first. I was startled by the familiar fragrance-- piquant plastic

with just a hint of toxicity so evocative of everything 1970s. The

Dream House case came with drawers and two Murphy bedsyou

know, for whenBarbie had those fabulous all-girl sleepovers! She slept


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in the camper wheneverG.I. Joe visited. (G.I. Joe is a registered

trademark ofHasbro.)

I opened theDream House door andOH! The horror! The

horror! The years had not been kind to my belovedBarbie. Shrouded by

a pile of knotted clothes, I foundBarbie. She was missing an arm, and

had a gaping bald spot, but even in her amputated stateBarbie oozed

that haughty deluded You can only dream you were me attitude.

When I opened her dream drawers I half expected to find empty bottles

of prescription sedatives buried beneath her collection of pastel string

bikinis and hair ties.

My mother had thought that myBarbie collection might be worth

something; sadly only to those who collected burnt-outBarbie. Was it

thefree love 70s, or the boom-boom 80s, or never being able to walk

flat-footed that brokeBarbie? I mean, her careers really took off in the

80sshe was a teacher, an astronaut, a roller-boogier, an aerobics

instructor, a veterinarian, a doctor, a rock starcould she realistically


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maintain that workload without a little help from her friends? (Wait, am

I talking about me orBarbie now?)

Almost like a premonition of their future divorce, I had storedKen

in the other case. The years had been kinder to him, but the glue from his

1974 Mod Hairleft a permanent sticky, icky five-oclock shadow and

his plaid pants seemed grossly dated. Although I must say, his plastic

Birkenstocks seem so today. MatteldiscontinuedKen (read: divorce)

and I always thought thatBarbiepreferred the roughness ofG.I. Joe,

anyway, ergo the camper sleepovers. Stuffed into the case withKen

wereBarbies friends, Midge andFrancie. The way they were all

tangled together, it might have looked like a sick orgy, but they were

worse off thanBarbielegless and naked, and lets be realKens

Birkenstocks dont exactly scream orgy.

I decidedBarbie and her friends desperately needed aBratz

intervention. (Bratzis a registered trademark ofMGA Entertainment) Of

all the housewives, theseBarbies were the most desperate of all. The

Bratzgirls could introduce Barbie and her friends to Crazy Glue,


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Rogaine, Botox, more natural looking implants, and martinis. In

exchange Barbie could teachBratzthe merits of working rather than

working it. My girlfriend suggested that a better solution would be to

send one of theAmerican Girls (American Girls are a registered

trademark ofMattel) over to theDream House,but with the way my

Barbie dolls looked, theyd need serious therapy! And just wait until

thoseAmerican Girls hit puberty.

I closed the cases and looked around at my own dream house. The

paint is peeling from where the tub leaked, baskets of laundry are

waiting to be ironed, and my Mod Hair Ken is just happy to have any

hair, mod or not. 35 years later, I finally looked better than myBarbie,

but I wouldnt mind aBratzintervention or a martini right now!

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Desperate Housewives of Mattel