Until recently I had been blissfully unaware of the fact that Mattel had released a Barbie doll that comes replete with tattoos. I was at the toy store with my daughter when I noticed her eyes widen as she excitedly plucked a tatted up Barbie from the shelf. I’ve never been a fan of these dolls and at the risk of sounding like a fuddy-duddy, I feel that they send the wrong message to kids. Some might argue that boys’ action figurines do the same thing. That may be true say for two observations:1. Boys’ action toys bear an aesthetic that matches their job description. You can make a case that if you were an elite marine, you’d have abs like G.I. Joe too. Have you seen real Navy Seals? They don’t look that dissimilar to the action figurine versions of themselves. Conversely, it’s tough to find a real life Barbie Doll who didn’t pay a small fortune for her disproportionate proportions. Besides, what is Barbie’s profession anyway? I know she comes in a variety of themes, but these seem so arbitrary and aimed at manufacturing diversity where none really exists.
2. Boys don’t focus on their toys’ aesthetics as much as girls. Sure, they love the parts that shoot, squirt and light up, but they’re not sitting quietly in the corner of a room trying to brush the Hulk’s plastic hair. Or debating which outfit is preferable for a Power Ranger to be shot in.
I didn’t think Barbie could slip any further on my approval rating until my kid presented me with what appeared to be “Meth-Head Barbie”—complete with tats, streaked unkempt hair and distressed clothing (apparently purchased at a miniature hooker’s yard sale).
If Mattel’s objective is to introduce our kids to an updated more “realistic” Barbie, can G.I. Joe be far behind? I can see it now:
Introducing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder G.I. Joe
Now with scars that you can’t see!
Warning: Fragile
This combat-seasoned G.I. Joe comes complete with a kung fu grip, debilitating flashbacks and repetitive night terrors.
Your children will have hours of fun as they help a real American hero reintegrate into civilian life and navigate an indifferent health care system in search of treatment for his substance abuse, occupational instability and generalized anxiety.
Needless to say, my daughter didn’t get the Barbie doll—nor did she seem especially thankful for her new 500-piece puzzle.
