Growing up in Italy, my first taste of Americana was having a Barbie doll. My sister and I played Barbies for hours in our little apartment. All of Barbies’s friends and family were there: Midge, Ken, Ricky and Skipper. And all the clothes, the cars, houses and stories. The storyline was always the same- Barbie in school or Barbie shopping or Barbie as clueless waitress. I always wanted Barbie gets lost in a nudist camp but my sister never agreed. 
Years later when I had my daughter, my mother bought her a Barbie doll. I hid it from her for weeks and refused to introduce her to this plastic doll who would permanently destroy and scar her self-esteem. I knew what it was like growing up looking to squeeze into a black and white strapless bathing suit with nothing to hold it up. I knew what it felt like to cinch a belt so tight that I’d gag just so I could have Barbie’s waist.
Today is Barbies 50th birthday- Fast Company’s article titled, Barbie turns 50- Celebrate by having some work done, dropping prices to ‘59 levels. It seems so appropriate that having work done and going back to prices from 50 years ago be in the same sentence let alone in the same breath.
I had lunch with my friend this weekend who complained about how tight money was and how she was chopping expenses left and right. Private schools, ski trips, high-priced restaurants were being eliminated. But looking good was at the top of her list and scheduling her appointment for some “cosmetic” work was scheduled for mid April on her calendar.
It’s interesting to me because we are not only living through uncertain times but contradictory times. I guess that’s what happens when we are not sure- we don’t know how to best prioritize. There are many who cannot afford the basics who manage to scrape it together to splurge on the glamorous, the trivial, and the unnecessary.
In Barbie’s honor, we can thank her for helping us believe in the fantasy. Happy Birthday
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