For a bit of plastic with blonde hair stuck on top, we tend to make Barbie cop a lot of responsibility.
Over the years, we’ve made her liable for confining women in restrictive roles, making generations of girls hate their bodies, and for reiterating the overall message that whatever women do in life, they always have to look pretty doing it.
There have been academic studies, books and countless column inches spilled on how Barbie and her permanently pointed feet damaged gender equality.
Funnily enough, toys associated with boys have escaped the same level of scrutiny. While some material exists on GI Joe and toxic masculinity, for example, it’s nowhere near on the same scale. Green plastic army men aren’t universally blamed for vulnerability being beaten out of boys before puberty. We don’t look at toy trucks and go “yes, that’s where weaponised incompetence in the house comes from”.
Did the FIFA PlayStation game contribute to the sizable population of men who vastly overestimate their sporting prowess and never shut up about how they “could have gone pro/played for county” if they didn’t get injured? We may never know. While studies have looked at the impacts of game play on brain waves, further research is required into whether it contributes to men telling female sports commentators to “go back to the kitchen”’ in mean tweets.
Meanwhile, Barbie has a whole chapter title in a book published by Cambridge University Press on gender and mathematics – “Math is hard!” (Barbie™, 1994): Responses of Threat vs Challenge-Mediated Arousal to Stereotypes Alleging Intellectual Inferiority.
[ Everyone needs to calm down about Barbie. Including meOpens in new window ]
The research piece referenced the outrage generated from the Teen Talk Barbie released in the early 1990s, a doll who played 270 phrases which included “will we ever have enough clothes?” and “math class is tough”.
While she could also say “I’m studying to be a doctor”, protests about Barbie and her role in perpetuating harmful gender roles erupted. One activist group swapped out the voiceboxes of GI Joe and the offending dolls before putting them back on the shelves. Unsuspecting parents complained the new Barbie they brought home for their daughters now said “Attack!” and “Vengeance is mine” – which is a shame really, as these are handy phrases young women should use more in the course of everyday life.
Barbie’s range of career choices initially drew criticism, leading her to eventually take on more than 200 vocations that ranged from an Avon cosmetics representative to jobs in Stem (science, technology, engineering and maths). The argument was that little girls need to see the wide range of vocational pathways available to them reinforced through toys.
There is also room in the market for ‘Burnt Out’ Barbie who’s been so overworked for years she no longer feels anything anymore, or alternatively bursts out crying at random intervals
In reality, I’m not sure how well that argument holds. My favourite and most played-with Barbie was the Dolly Parton-esque Western Stampin’ Fun Barbie. But to my dismay as an adult I have not become a cowgirl who, for inexplicable reasons, has rolling stamps in her boots where spurs should go. Sadly, it turns out the career path for cattle drovers with a special talent for decorating wedding invitations is very limited. But one can dream.
What would have been useful, instead of Barbies and Kens going scuba diving (their wetsuits changed colour in different water temperatures, the height of technology when I was 10) or becoming astronauts would have been to put them in situations that would ready us for the challenges of adult life.
The children are our future so we should break their spirits early with the crushing realities of adulthood.
We need a “Can’t Find a Place to Rent” Ken, who comes with Daft.ie always loaded up on his mobile phone and a nasty cough from black mould he was too scared to tell his old landlord about in case he sold up – which he did anyway. This Ken doesn’t come with a Barbie. He finds it hard to date living in his parent’s box room and has to be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice to inspect another €1,000-per-month room alongside 200 other people. (In fairness, the 90s issued Barbie Fold and Fun House did get Millennials primed for living in a one-bedroom dwelling that could fold up into a suitcase.)
There is also room in the market for “Burnt Out” Barbie who’s been so overworked for years she no longer feels anything anymore, or alternatively bursts out crying at random intervals. She comes with a redundant yoga mat, self-help books and a choice of anxiety meds.
“Burnt Out” Barbie is the precursor to “Crystals will Fix Everything” Barbie who comes with her own ice bath, misunderstanding of eastern religions and star-sign charts. When her heart chakra is pressed she spouts phrases containing the words “toxic”, “wellness” and “energy”. This Barbie believes she healed herself of burnout using spirituality, when in actual fact all she needed was to leave the job she hated and have a bit of a lie down.
Barbie is a product, she has always been a reflection of the world her customers live in and their idea of what women should aspire to. That’s how they sell her. It may be us who is the problem, because we can quite literally mould Barbie into anything we want.