Well, we had a decent run. All good things must come to an
end, I guess. After three daughters and eleven years as a parent I suppose I
should be happy that we are just now being captured by the mania that is the American Girl franchise.
Sure, we had purchased a few movies and books before-they
had wonderful messages about how to treat yourself and others. The girls loved
the books but had never really had more than a passing interest in the dolls.
Until…
Both younger girls gave us the doll request in the same
week. Repeatedly. And Again. And again. Agh! Then at the craft show at church,
they encountered about 6,542 homemade-doll-clothing vendors.
“Pleeeeeease??????”
“We reeeeaaaallllly love them!”
“I would play with her every day!” (a nod to our repeated
reminders that they have not always played with the things they craved beyond
the day they received them-well played).
And so, a couple of weeks ago, we bought them each their own
gateway drug, I mean doll.
We did a lot of research and informal polling of cult
members to see what the differences were between the actual American Girl dolls and the other 18”
dolls like Our Generation from Target
or Marie Alexander dolls, etc. The
general consensus was that they were all pretty similar, but that the hair was
the biggest difference. Since the price difference was about $80 between
generic and real deal, we bought the generics as test dolls.
They went crazy. Ca-ray-zee! You would think that Hally and
Eva were gold-plated. Good so far.
Once they started really playing with the dolls we truly did
start to see the hair issue rear its ugly head. Hair pulled out, dulled and
snarled, and this was after “salon” work with a doll hairbrush and water. The
hair is not tragic, and by no means dimmed the joy of their young “mamas” but I
could see the difference.
So all is well in suburban doll land, yes?
I say Nay, Nay.
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| "Shhhhh, she's not a real AG Doll!" |
The youngest had the pleasure of being invited to a party at
the giant Mecca of doll-maniacs (Anne, I’m talking to you) -The American Girl store. Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! (hear that
like an angel chorus, not a horror-flick scream). She was to bring her doll (we figured the generic would squeak by) and was ecstatic.
We arrived early to the party so that I could get a handle
on the whole AG scene. It was imposing and impressive and intoxicating-even to
the un-dolly among us (me). She looked at everything. EVERYTHING. Books, dolls,
shoes, clothes, accessories, movies, salon, bistro, everything. Then she fell
in love with “Doll #27” out of all of the other dolls in the store.
She flirted with the notion of “Caroline” who is the
historical doll of the year. I was surprised when she walked away and settled
on #27, a modern-styled doll with blonde hair and blue eyes and “beautiful
low-lights”. Yes, the helpful associate actually informed us that the doll had “beautiful
low-lights”. I was so outmatched, this was a pro!
After informing me that her sister “reeeeeeally wanted
McKenna” the gymnastics-loving modern doll of the year, she abandoned her
sisterly pleading and went back to self-preservation. She set about asking me if
“I bought her doll yet” every time I saw her for the next two hours. I reminded
her that her birthday was a month away and that we would, vaguely, “see”.
She went up to her party and I will neither confirm nor deny
whether I purchased the dolls for them that day. I did buy them each a few
accessories and some great movies marked down to $5.00 each. The only thing in
the store that low, by the way.
As I wandered around the Galleria waiting for the party to
end, wrestling with the decision to buy or not to buy the real deal, I walked
into Williams Sonoma. I couldn’t help it, the store has a magnetic pull on me.
I started chatting with a clerk over the pumpkin cake pops. She said something
that struck me:
“I have daughters that are almost grown now, and I will tell
you that the girls who played with those dolls stayed little girls longer. They
stayed innocent longer and it kept them from watching and reading some really
bad stuff. If it costs me $100 or $200 to keep them young a few more years,
here’s the cash.”
A really good point. How much is too much to pay to keep
childhood a little longer? Very material point here, I know, but pretty darn true.
Flash forward to my full indoctrination in the process. The
American Girl store sells a lot of outfits for girls to match their dolls' outfits. And they are proud of them. I thought, in my brilliance, that I would
make the two dolls, Hally and Eva, Christmas pajama pants that match the girls’
jammie pants I made last year. I had scraps and a newly reconditioned sewing
machine so I went for it.
 |
| "See the jammie pants?" |
I borrowed a pair of 18” doll pants and made a pattern by trial
and error, using the same method I used to make the girls’ pants. One caveat
here…dolls’ feet don’t bend, knees don’t bend and they don’t bend at the waist.
Flannel really doesn’t stretch. After two failed attempts, I finally got a size and
shape that fit the dolls. Now they have matching jammies! For free!
“I love them!!!!” I heard.
"They're just like mine!" I heard.
“Now can you make dresses and skirts and shirts and pants
and………”
Maybe not the best idea on my part.
Keep checking back to see if this house will have two more
dolls in December. My lips are sealed!
