I love Barbie. I don't feel as though I have been her victim of body image issues because of her insane and impossible physical proportions. Barbie rocks. She has more clothes than Paris Hilton, college degrees like you can't imagine, and great legs. What's not to love?
As a kid, my cousin gave my sisters and I a giant bag full of Barbies, clothes and accessories. I loved playing with them and coming up with scandalous story lines involving Ken and the trampy little sister, Skipper. Mine always was something like this:
Barbie is a working woman, typically a lawyer or ad executive. Ken is lazy, but hot, so he's forgiven for not having a job. That is, until Barbie finds Ken and her sister, Skipper, kissing one day. Barbie drives off, in her pink Corvette, in a huff, determined that she and Ken are done. Ken races after her because he realizes that it's Barbie he wants and Skipper was just a distraction. In his haste, Ken overcorrects his car, hits a light pole, and breaks his leg. Barbie rushes to his side at the hospital where they makeup and kiss in his hospital bed.
Barbie was good for my creative side, even though most of my stories were some variance of the one above. I have no idea how I came up with that stuff because we weren't even allowed to watch Baywatch or 90210 when I was growing up. Sheltered!
What's your story?