Barbie Memories

I really didn't have a lot of Barbies as a kid, especially after The Barbie Tanning Incident involving the Easy-Bake oven. But I was reading through a website snarking on the dresses at the Oscars and came across this absolutely perfect description of my relationship with Barbies:

When I was a little girl, my grandmother had these pillows in her bedroom that I was OBSESSED with. They were peach, and they were covered in lace, with lace trim. They were VERY feminine and therefore made perfect staging areas on which my Barbies could try and strangle each other -- my Barbies led very dramatic, soap-operatic lives, which is to be expected when there are twenty women fighting over two men, one of whom was ostensibly married (that would be Todd, of the Tracy and Todd wedding set, and he had some issues -- most notably that the rubber band which attached his top half to his bottom half broke when he was dancing too vigorously at his wedding reception, leaving him at worst a paraplegic and at best unable to sit down, depending on the needs of the story I was concocting). Occasionally, my Barbies would commit suicide over something or other, or one would run the other one down with the pink Corvette, or one would get trampled under the hooves of Barbie's horse, Dallas, or one would be tossed down the elevator shaft of the Barbie Townhouse, and when that happened, I often set their bodies down on these pillows for the viewing before the funeral (during which all my other Barbies, as well as said pillow, were swaddled in some excess black lace my other grandma gave me after I told her that I thought it was inappropriate for Barbie and her cronies to be so SMILELY at a funeral, even if one of them was quasi- or wholly responsible for the death).

Hah!