Khadija Magardie
BODY LANGUAGE
To be honest, I’ve always wondered how she manages to do it. Barbie, that is. With her impressive, nipple-free bosom more than twice the size of her waist, equally impressive legs more than twice as long as her torso, and feet so femininely tiny that she can neither balance nor stand on them, she is every man’s fantasy.
But all of these attributes have, no doubt, been a great disadvantage for the peroxided blonde in her many careers.
After all, since her launch over 40 years ago, Barbie has been very busy out there in the world – she has done stints as a beauty queen, a dancer, a surgeon and an air stewardess, to name but a few.
By now, Barbie the career girl will have found out that one can seldom be effective in the workplace with men staring down your chest all day, or by tottering around the construction site in stilettos.
Now doll-makers have cottoned on to the idea of “the PC doll”. This trend subscribes to the idea that in order to make a doll more popular, especially among “non-Aryans”, she must look more realistic. Particularly, she is supposed to look more “like a real woman”.
Of course, Barbie, the descendant of a swimsuit-clad German porno doll called Lili, is not about to change overnight. She may come in black, Hispanic or oriental models, but her bodily proportions and her lifestyle remain the same. She is, of course, career-minded and gym-oriented, and despite their long relationship, nuptials with lifelong beau Ken are not on the horizon.
Last month at a local trade show, a newcomer, Palesa, walked away with the “toy of the year” award. The doll, described by her creators as “a true African princess”, has a bigger butt, fuller breasts and hips, and is said to represent “a new generation of African women”.
Palesa comes with her own range of ethnic wear. Listed in her impressive CV, Palesa is “feminine, a successful academic and an independent woman”.
It would be interesting to think of the future of “dolldom” if the little nymphettes would really start looking like the rest of us.
Picture it. Home Executive Heidi, resplendent in hair curlers, nicotine- stained lips, and balancing an infant or two on each wide hip. Of course, this doll would have her own wardrobe of interchangeable overalls, each splattered with left-over baby food or cooking oil. Listed as accessories would be a vacuum cleaner, an ashtray and, perhaps, a telephone.
Or Check-out Cindy, with over-bleached hair and gaudy blue eyeshadow. Of course, Cindy would have a special hole in her lips to blow bubblegum. And she would have flat feet, suitable to wear sensible walking shoes. Maybe she could even have varicose veins.
Take your pick …
What about Domestic Debbie? Debz should have a blue-checkered housecoat, with a matching doek, and a blanket around her torso, safety-pinned at the chest. Accessories? A gurgling blonde infant to put inside the blanket; plus a matchbox- size room “out back”, with a cast-iron bed, and no windows. For an optional extra, the manufacturers could throw in “a madam” that shrills, “Debby-y-y-y-y, where are my earrings” in a nasal (maybe Sandton) accent.
Strictly for South African toy-shelves, we will have Talk-show Tiffany, who will have a wardrobe full of Chanel-style power suits and a choice of red nail polishes. If you press a button at the back, the doll will start repeating “When I was in the States”, and flutter her eyelashes incessantly. Beneath the suits, which will be skillfully sewn to disguise every bulge and wobble, the doll will have additional soft bits on her thighs, breasts and butt, which are removable. The little girl who buys the doll can remove these parts if she wants, but she would have to buy a whole new wardrobe for her doll, which manufacturers will have specially designed. The doll will come with a rudimentary video camera that can be operated by anyone, but that will only record when it is focused on the doll.
Most necessarily, the bodies of these “real” dolls would be something for little girls to think about. Perhaps Heidi’s breasts could be made a little like the empty bags that are tell-tale signs of years of lactation. Maybe she could have some white stretch-marks carved into her lower abdomen.
It would be nice if some of the dolls could have cellulite, too, just a little around the buttocks. Of course, one will be able to buy a vanity bag as an accessory, filled with toners, astringents, packs and massage gloves. Maybe the makers could even include a treadmill.
Because of morality, one supposes it would be asking too much that the doll sprout a few pubic hairs, or maybe have some bristles on her lower lip or chin. One could, I suppose, include a razor or depilatory.
Of course, if her feet were flat, and not designed for the high heels that do little for the posture, and are unsuitable for walking long distances, the doll would be a lot more comfortable. After all, she could then fetch the kids from school with ease, or stand for hours hawking vegetables in Sauer Street. But then, of course, one would need to include some corns or bunions on the feet.
The bottom line when it comes to dolls is that the further from the natural female form, the more feminine and hence acceptable she is.
Dolls cannot and, for marketing purposes, will never mirror reality. The deflated breasts and orange-peel thighs of the majority of the world’s women will look obscene on a figurine that caters exclusively for fantasy. It is laughable that dolls now claim to look like the women of the world, when in fact it is merely changing the icing on the same cake.
Last year, some feminists got excited when a partnership between two United States dairy produce giants came up with Milkmaid Barbie. The doll was kitted out in a Holstein-cow-print overall shorts, and was clutching a milk carton. But beneath the wrappings, it was the same good old Barbie. Manufacturers assured the public that this was no lactating doll – there was, alas, no breast-pump included either!