lizbee | And now for something completely different.

To take my mind off WarningGate, aka Why Can't You Silly Girls Who Claim To Have Survived Assault And Abuse Just Go Away and Stop Bothering Us A Palooza, I decided to concentrate on something that would make me happy. Unfortunately, it turns out that I wasn't in the right frame of mind to write a cracksome DW/B5 crossover, but don't worry, the line "Remember, Martha, never play strip poker with a Vorlon" will live to see another day. Whether you like it or not, really.

Anyway, that didn't work, so I had to turn back to a simpler time. Specifically, 1985. I was a very deprived child, you see -- and no, this isn't about WarningGate, it's something far more serious. My mother, you see, had good feminist principles, especially when it came to the intersection of rank capitalism and patriarchal views of femininity. The result was that I was only ever allowed to have one Barbie, and even that was a reluctant concession on Mum's part.

The problem, of course, was that it was sort of a golden age for Barbies. Not in a collector's sense, but in a fabulous outfits for little girls to play with sense. Remember Astronaut Barbie? Day-to-Night Barbie, who could go from the office to a nightclub by taking off her jacket and turning her reversible skirt inside-out? I had one Dream Glow Barbie. She was more than a bit magnificent, especially after one of my relatives made me a vast wardrobe of non-glowing clothes for her to wear. But there was one Barbie I wanted desperately, and I was never allowed to have her.

Barbie and the Rockers.

It was TERRIBLE! All my friends had her, and the playset, and the cassette, and the multiple outfits with leggings and leg-warmers and completely random fluffy bits that were meant to go in her hair! For a brief, shining moment, I was going to be allowed to see Barbie and the Rockers play live at the local shopping centre, but then there was a minor disagreement between Mum and I (...okay, I may have lay on the floor screaming and pounding, but I felt very strongly about ... well, something), and I was forbidden to go.

Anyway, piecesofalice has heard this story many times, and this year, she rectified the situation.

That's the original Barbie and the Rockers. In 1986, a second generation design came out, with curly hair and a different outfit, and that's the one people remember. But the lady above was the first. Check out those rocking silver leggings! I saw a girl wearing an identical pair the other night.

She came in her original box, with all the packaging still intact. And I was hesitant to open it after 24 years, but at the same time, I've never been one to leave my dolls locked up. Also, the box must have been kept in a house with a cat, because Harvey was quite determined to open it himself and track the foreign smell to its source.

Barbie: "So, Doctor, I heard you liked blonde pop starlets."
Ten: "Yeah, but not in a way that excludes non-blondes and women of colour or anything, because that would set up a subtext of fail."

Martha: *is articulated for facepalming*

Anyway, despite her Doctor-stealing ways, I love my Barbie quite a lot. And I think I am going to have to get the next-gen Barbie and the Rockers, and also the reproduction, and they can all hang out and be sisters.

And the moral of the story is, even if you forbid your daughter to have a Barbie and the Rockers, one day she will grow up and have awesome friends, and eBay will exist. And the doll will totally be worth the wait.