I have meant to write this story for a while but somehow for the last two years the work-life balance and the chase after normality took over and in fact a walk with the dog or just doing nothing (aka binging a series on Netflix or Disney) was more important then and there. Yet, the recent Barbie movie brought all little girl’s memories back and in its pink girl-power way motivated to me to share the story of how my first Barbie arrived in my world.
It was the summer of 1989. Sonia was 10 years old. One day on a rather boring otherwise outing to a restaurant she saw her on the shelf in the shop. Pink. Sparkling. Glamorous. Beach Blast Barbie. She had long wavy her… pink bikini with a distinctive “B” on her top… and bespoke array of accessories including a sunshade hat, sunglasses and a clip-on hairpiece that changed its colour to pink in the sun. Sonia stared at the pink box and watched the playful smile on Barbie’s face. Minutes passed and she would not move. Mesmerized. She fell in love with the doll and could not stop thinking and talking about her. She dreamt how she could play with Barbie. Take her out for picnics and days out on the beach or at the lake. Brush her hair and see how it turns pink. Dress her up and then change the clothes and shoes again. She would introduce her to a brown hair Fleur and a blue hair Steffi and they would all have days of fun, girls afternoons and family get-togethers.
Sonia was so passionate, persistent and persuasive that one day her biggest, pinkest, Barbiest dream came through. But let us not rush the story, shall we. When she woke up on that summer morning, Sonia did not have a clue that her grandad, Bronek, went on a quest in the early hours. He got up early and took a bus to the main train station. He bought a return ticket to a 40 km away town, called Cieszyn. He embarked a greenish train and travelled for 90 minutes as it rumbled and chugged through the small villages. It was late morning when he arrived in the centre, checked out a map and walked up the hill. The shop that was there was somewhat different. It was not an ordinary shop. It was 1989 in Poland and Western world artefacts such as Barbie could only be purchased in a very special and exclusive shop where only foreign currency such as US dollars or German Deutschmarks were accepted. So that day Bronek brought some of his life savings carefully stashed away to buy the pretty pink doll. He pointed at the bright box and got it packed in a distinctive Baltona bag. He handed up the cash, left the shop with a pleasing smile and followed the pink heart road back home.
How much was the Barbie in the shop at that time, I do not know. To me it was worth everything and I think my grandparents realized this when they decided to indulge my craving and deep desire. All I remember is that my grandad returned in the afternoon from his mysterious trip. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a magical pink box. And wow. I screamed. I jumped. I cried. Overwhelmed with joy. In that moment, all my dreams came through. And I believed everything is possible. And I was the happiest girl in the world.
A few months later, Ken arrived and it was no other than a Beach Blast handsome blonde and tanned Ken in the aqua blue swimsuit. And then another beach Barbie joined the crew. Oh what fun we had. Every trip and every holidays, those three would be travelling with me for hours of play in the sun, and in the rain too if needs must. I had a chunky red carry-all leather bag (not part of Barbie accessories but a vintage one from my granny’s wardrobe) that hold everything we needed. Barbies had their own assortment of fashionable clothes, bags and high heel shoes, while Ken only had a change of flattering jeans and a striped polo jumper that he totally rocked no matter the occasion. We played beach. We played road trips. We played parties. We had a blast.
Years on, having been hibernating in a box in the wardrobe Barbies and Ken were given their second life with Natasha, my daughter. She also loved to play with them, however, she and her Generation Z friends had slightly different ways. She still took her dolls for outdoor fun however, she gave them mud baths รก la Peppa Pig in the puddle. She still played fashion and beauty however, she gave the Barbies a total makeover experience that involved hair cut and dye. She introduced them to her platform-boots Bratz and pool-beauty Mermaid. She shared her toys with Lucky the dog and unfortunately, the Mattel-made plastic hands did not stay unscathed after his chews.
This summer me and my sixteen-year old daughter went to the cinema together to watch Barbie – a generation-crossover, girl-power, wear-it-pink night out and we both loved it yet for all different reasons. I loved Ken, she detested the guy. I awed at the references, she adored the star-studded soundtrack. I followed the mother’s journey while she followed the daughter’s. When we came back, we dug out the Barbies, took them to the beach for a photo session and then put them safely away again so that one day another little girl can play with them. I only wish she will have as much fun as I had.
Sonia's Storyge 