Playing Barbies

July 29, 2004
My sister came to town today. Even though we live less than three hours apart, we see each other too infrequently. Two of my daughters and her new daughter-in-law joined us for a delightful afternoon tea at The English Tea Room. Personally, I do not care for tea but this is the one time I will sip a cup of tea. I just cannot resist having my dainty floral teacup filled from a lovely china teapot kept exceptionally hot with its tea cozy.

The highlight of my sister’s visit came later in the evening. This summer my sister has gone through her childhood and college keepsakes and downsized her former life into a select few sentimental things. She brought with her some items she knew would interest me. It was her Bubble Head Barbie doll from the early 60’s, Ken and a round black Barbie case full of Barbie clothes. The uniqueness of these childhood belongings is that over forty years ago, I hand sewed the majority of her Barbie’s wardrobe.

Just seeing the round shiny black Barbie case again sparked a flame of nostalgic fervor. Unzipping the case was like stepping back in time, a time of simplicity and carefree days. I lifted each garment I had designed and hand sown and its familiarity was incredibly sharp. Forty years ago suddenly seemed only a breath away. I immediately began trying each outfit on Barbie. I relived each garment differently. Some garments were exceptional successes of my design and even I wondered at my own accomplishments. It was interesting that my sister and I chose the same outfits as our favorites.

My sister is my only sibling and she is four years younger than me. When the Barbie doll was introduced, I was entering the age of puberty where I experienced the conflicting emotions of being a little girl one moment and wanting to be a grown up girl the next. I felt I was too big to play with dolls even though I still wanted to. So I found a way to ‘play’ with Barbie but in an inconspicuous way that wouldn’t embarrass me. I created her wardrobe, directed Barbie’s life through my ideas of different games, stories and life scenarios. My sister loved it. Barbie became a movie star personality with her own stage name created by me. Why I chose the movie star name of Mimi Bunzell is unknown. Barbie slash Mimi Bunzell had a beautiful wardrobe of evening gowns fashioned from discarded clothing my Mother put in her ragbag.

Tonight after spending a significant amount of time looking through all of the Barbie clothes, my sister and I then moved on to some of my childhood toys. The midnight hour found me rummaging through the attic to find the tattered but original box of my Deluxe Dream Kitchen with its 176 pieces. Bringing it down from the attic felt like I had been treasure hunting and had found my bounty.

The Deluxe Dream Kitchen was a marvel of its time in the early 60’s. After I saw it in the store, I think I dreamed about having it every night and it was the number one item on my Christmas list. Alas, my disappointed heart sunk when I opened my last gift that Christmas and I didn’t get the Deluxe Dream Kitchen. My parents couldn’t afford it. They did manage to get it for me the following Christmas. Ironically, my enthusiasm for the kitchen set had waned and now I felt disappointed to have gotten it. I felt sorry for my parents because they were so pleased they had been able to give it to me. How could I act happy about a gift I now felt too grown up to call my own?

The solution once again came back to my sister. I incorporated the kitchen set into her Barbie’s life. This way I could manage to play with it because it did still intrigue me. We dedicated the entire bottom of our closet as Barbie’s domain. The left side of the closet was her kitchen supplied by the Deluxe Dream Kitchen with its sink and dishwasher with the capabilities of running water, a stove with burners that lit up bright red and a turkey on a rotisserie that turned and a refrigerator with shelves that swung out to fill with plastic fruit, vegetables, meat and milk bottles. The cupboards were filled with miniature boxes of cereal, cookies, cleaning products and paper goods. There was also a set of dishes, flatware and pans to set upon a white table with four chairs. The other side of the closet was devoted to Barbie’s boudoir, which included a canopy bed, dresser, nightstand and various accessories.
But back to the present, this night was a uniting of the spirits of two young sisters though now well hidden in our present adult state. Together once again, my sister and I handled each of nearly all of the 176 pieces that were wondrously still intact. Frequently we began talking simultaneously about a memory triggered by our walk down memory lane. The sibling connection is amazingly unique, especially when our thoughts are frequently verbalized in duet.

When we retired to bed in the wee hours of the morning, I laid awake for probably another hour. It was like I had just watched a video clip of my growing up years and I was savoring its clear images. My sister and I shared a closeness most sisters can identify with. We rarely fought as my parents can attest and our childhood was filled with days of imagination and creativeness unpolluted by the stifling grip of television.

After seeing and holding my Barbie creations once again, it was remarkable to find that my stitches of love and time sown over forty years ago for my sister still hold. I was reminded of how much more do the stitches of love and time sown in my life by my Heavenly Father still hold. And though my life felt quite unraveled this week, the double stitch He has sown in my life is eternally in place. Though my life garment may become tattered from the wear and tear of daily trials, its basic construction holds because His pattern is without error. He is the master designer and creator and He is in control.