She's Evil...But She's Fabulous...

So of course my 34th birthday weekend was a blast…another year sharing the kickoff celebration with my girl, Nancy…the

 two of us among our dearest friends, clad in pjs, lots of wine, a grand selection of cheeses, more than a few dirty Grey Goose martinis and gooey red velvet cake…no men allowed. Perfect, right? The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of celebratory dinners and brunches and cakes and toasts…and lovely gifts (personal fave was the cozy blue Snuggie from Susan M…the Chia Pet of the millennium...). Anyway, it makes the years so much easier to face when you are surrounded by those you truly love…right?

So, get this…as it turns out, this March marks another momentous occasion in history…the 50th birthday of someone extra special to me…someone so fabulous and dynamic and accomplished and still looking so incredibly hot….And I can’t help but look back on the moments we have shared... so I sit, toasting this beloved friend and all our friendship has meant….

So here’s to you, Barbie!

That’s right….let’s jump in the white ‘Vette and meet at the Dream House, my friends, because we are partying Malibu-style…and by the way, leave that closet-case, Ken, at home….

Who knew that Barbie even had a birthday? Turns out she made her debut on March 9, 1959….only 10 years and 364 days before my miraculous birth...or wait, I am 34...so that's 15 years and 364 days.... And who knew that sun-kissed blond princess was a Pisces soul sister on top of that? Should have known...all the hottest b*tches are born in March...Anyway, had I been aware, I would have been way nicer to her as a child…I never would have pulled her head off or stripped her bare, throwing her under the bed like some plastic, giant-breasted , crackhead crime victim. You know, our elder citizens deserve respect, right? And who would have guessed weeks ago when I saw Geriatric Barbie at Nassau Coliseum, that she was right on with her burnt out look...she was channeling the real geriatric Barbie! Well, let me tell you…I am not one of those doll collector freaks with a n 8,000 square foot warehouse dedicated to Barbie’s wardrobe and accessories and all that….Still, she was one of my favorite toys as a kid, but not until I was actually a little older…back in the fourth grade when I met my real soul sister and BFF, Allison, who happened to have in her possession the most extensive and pristine collection of Barbies and fashion figure dolls…and around them we built countless hours of drama. But back to that in a few….

Being the fourth of five children and the third and youngest girl, I didn’t really have very many of my “own” toys when I was little…you know, I was three and four and five and I was playing with my sisters’ things, not really age-appropriate, but who really knew from that stuff back then anyway? (Ok…a little aside, I can hear my sister Cathleen groaning at her monitor and my brother Dan playing his tiny violin…so I will say it, I may not have had my own toys in the early years, but I did get a car on my 17th birthday…which they did not…Ok, done…back to the story….). I went to town on their Clackers (remember those? Hello, safety risk…how many kids ended up in the hospital after whipping those little weapons back and forth at lightening speed?) and I always got the strings irreversibly twisted and knotted. I played with their board games –Life and Clue and Sorry ….and I totally lost every piece and ripped and bent every playing card. Mostly I remember sharing the little crappy portable record player with Trish upon which she spun David Cassidy (another hot Pisces born in March...) albums endlessly… Still, to this minute, I can sing from memory every word to “I Think I Love You”…I’m afraid that I’m not sure of a love there is no cure for ….Anyway, so in my house the thought of having a collection of any well-kept toy all to myself was a fantasy. So I spent my time reading Cath’s hand-me-down books, writing original stories on lined loose-leaf pages and watching Elvis movies on Channel 5…

But in 1979 I met Allison…and she was an only daughter, younger sister of two brothers. She had all the coolest toys and clothes and her mom even let us eat Fluffer-Nutter and Twinkies and Krimpets and Charles potato chips for after-school snacks (Pat Ritt was totally in her no soda/no chips/no refined sugar stage in 1979…more like: No Fun...). I remember our first play date (don’t think they called them that then, but whatever…), Allison had on Jordache jeans over a black Danskin body suit with the most awesomely cheesy set of rainbow suspenders, a la Mork from Ork. And we went right into her room and she pulled out the collection of dolls…there was Ballerina Barbie, Malibu Barbie, Bridal Barbie, Brunette Barbie (aka Slutty Barbie), Francine (Barbie’s BFF), Growing-Up Skipper (with the twist of her arm this poor doll grew taller and sprouted a set of B-cups…), Malibu Ken (looking like a 70’s gay porn star), Bearded Ken (HA!…that is even gayer!!). On top of that, she also had the Donny and Marie dolls and the Cher doll. It was like a Vegas drag show fantasy all tucked away in her closet.

So, without words or plans, we just sat down and launched into this full-on Barbie-centric soap opera…the Barbies were all sisters and they were all fighting over Malibu (Gay) Ken. Malibu Barbie tossed him out for sleeping with Brunette Barbie…and that’s when Ballerina Barbie came into the picture with her permanently in-place crown and Bearded Ken by her side (maybe he was a ballet dancer too…explains a lot…). So Ballerina Barbie tried to make peace….until Brunette Barbie made a play for Bearded Ken too. All the other sisters were in a tizzy…Skipper ran away to Oregon with that Rajneesh cult…Francine moved back in with her alcoholic parents…and Bridal Barbie was pissed that her wedding kept getting postponed…it was a sh*t show. Meanwhile, next door lived Donny and Marie, who we decided were not siblings, but husband and wife…gross, I know…and Cher was messing around with Donny, so Marie lost her sh*t and chopped all her hair off (egged on by me and Allison, by the way…) and then ended up in a sanitarium. Cher became bored with Donny and dumped him, leaving him homeless, and moved on to Gay Ken…even in our fourth grade fantasy game, Cher was a gay icon…And don’t even get me started on what happened when that call girl/starlet Tiffany Taylor with her sinister blond/brunette switcheroo hairdo moved to town…

Now you may wonder how a set of 9 year old girls could derive such stories from our innocent brains…well, as I said I was the fourth of five and also had started reading Judy Blume by the time I was 8, getting all the skinny on naughty things teens and preteens think and do…hey, at least I was reading. And Allison, as it turned out, spent her impressionable pre-school years with her grandmother, Margie Fillipelli, taking in day after day of Margie’s “stories” her fave, the craptastic Days of Our Lives (Marlena and Roman!!)…this experience gave birth to our adulterous/wife swapping storylines. And to top that off, every Friday night Al would sit on the couch and watch Dallas with her mom…which in turn introduced us to the terms alcoholic and sanitarium (Thanks, Sue Ellen!). 

Oh, wait…one little aside…who knew how on-point Allison and I would be in our characterization of Marie Osmond...in real life back then she all virginal and an American sweetheart with her toothy grin and “Little Bit Country…” dreck.…It was decades before anyone realized she was off her friggin’ Mormon rocker with her 8 kids and porcelain doll line and drag queen makeup and wigs, popping pharmaceuticals left and right. Ok, ok…she has bounced back a little with her 40-pound weight loss and Vegas sibling act with Donny. But you have to admit, Allison and I called it back in ’79….back when Barbie was a young, fresh-faced 20 year old college student/supermodel/beauty queen/beach bum/rock star…. and so was Marie...

But you know, despite our efforts to smear Barbie’s rep, take down her family, out the Kens and create our own little episode of Intervention (hey, with Ken Seeley!!) on Allison’s yellowy-orangey-fuchsia-y 70’s shag rug…we loved Barbie…and we looked up to her. Ok, so she is a little vapid and kind of looked like some Hollywood trophy wife with a silicone addiction…And maybe her Dream House was decorated like some disco-themed bachelor pad, and her boyfriend was more interested in sharing her shoes than her bed....And even though the stories we built around the dolls were so twisted and outlandish and silly and really not at all how most adults actually live (well, maybe in LA…but that’s it…)….you know what, clearly Barbie inspired our 9 year old creativity and imagination like no other had at that point…and I guess that makes her kind of cool, doesn't it? Maybe Barbie actually is an empowering feminist icon…maybe she’s not such a ditz after all….and now Barbie -- and hell, Marie too, while we are at it -- are onto the next half of their lives…and 50 is looking pretty hot from my vantage point.

So I have been thinking (hoping?)…maybe this getting older thing really is about getting better...I think I can be talked into that....And well, if nothing else, there’s always going crazy, chopping my hair off and ending up in the sanitarium to look forward to...that and Botox, right, Marie?

Photo 1: Red velvet deliciousness for me and my girls...washed down with Prosecco...even better...

Photo 2: Barbie circa 1959...pre-Ken, pre-Skipper, pre-Malibu...pre-rehab...

Photo 3: Nunchuks for the elementary school set...damn things could crack your skull...

Photo 4: Teen Idol...cute and smirky with awesome hair...still works 35 years later....

Photo 5: Ritt contraband circa '79...must have had 8 of those upon every visit to Allison's...

Photo 6: Style icon and trendsetter...Mork sporting his signature rainbow flag suspenders...surprised Bearded Ken didn't have a pair of those...

Photo 7: Malibu Barbie and Gay Ken...just kidding...Ken's not gay...gay guys are waaay too tasteful to wear neon mesh and pookah shell necklaces...

Photo 8: That homewrecker, Cher...wreaking havoc on the '70's variety show world...

Photo 9: "Like sands through the hourglass...." How many Days did we waste sitting in front of that crap?

Photo 10: Tranny Marie and her evil porcelain doll doppelganger...creepy, man...

Photo 11: Me at age 9...that rocking tan clearly the reason why Botox is beginning to seem appealing....