Barbie Doesn't Have Any Private Parts
Sexualizing the sexless. Barbie's style and what it means for girlhood.
I was never one to mutilate my Barbie dolls. They were never beheaded. They were never tattooed with markers. They never lost a limb. Their hair was never cut (except for that edition where you were supposed to cut her hair, which I, for the record, instantly regretted). My Barbies were sacred. They were movie stars and ballerinas. They were moms. They were all around fun ladies with impeccable fashion sense and more elephants than anyone could ever need.
As Greta Gerwig’s very own Barbie movie approaches, press about the iconic doll and this modern interpretation has taken over my timeline–not that I’m complaining. This adaptation, starring Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling, is taking form as trailers release, and the film seems to be addressing existential topics like identity, agency, and the panopticon of the Barbie Dream House.
I want to dive into the fashion of Barbie as an icon of girlhood, and what this means for the girls with whom she plays.
Barbie Doesn’t Have Any Private Parts
Strip down your Barbie and what do you get? Well, not much. There are bumps and grooves, the suggestion of boobs and reproductive organs. A tiny waste, a round butt, and womanly hips. But in the end, her body is that of a mini mannequin. No nipples, no details, just the shape of a woman. The Barbie doll is, before anything else, a canvas.
And she’s a beautiful canvas. She has all the classical beauty features of the ideal western woman with light hair, blue eyes, a dazzling smile, and the aforementioned “perfect” body.
But who is this canvas for? Unlike a storefront mannequin, the target consumer of a Barbie doll is a child. Initially the target was specifically young girls, though of course the concept of which children can play with which toys has evolved. But I want to focus on Barbie’s impact on girlhood because I’m a girl, and it’s what I know. (It is however, worth mentioning Ken’s six-pack abs, deep cut v-line, and blank downstairs area to match.)
Of course, as a young girl I thought Barbie was beautiful, and I also looked absolutely nothing like her. I wasn’t particularly long or lean, my hair is dark brown and curly, and my eyes are almost black, certainly not blue. And as a kid, I wished I had light eyes and straighter hair, but I’m not blaming this on Barbie. These beauty standards were in most of the media I consumed during my childhood. Barbie, Disney Princesses, the teen stars of my favorite shows, pop-stars I adored, the actresses on magazine covers in the grocery store, they all seemed to be born of the same mold.
You might be saying I’ve heard this all before. And you have. But how does Barbie in particular impact conceptions of sex, and love, and life, and careers, and the conception of self?
Sexualizing the Sexless
In a trailer for Greta Gerwig’s Barbie (2023) Ken asks his longtime girlfriend about staying over. Barbie responds with a confused, but notably animated, “Why?” Ken of course reasons, “because we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.” “To do what?” Barbie continues.
And Ken says, “I’m actually not sure.”
Barbie’s figure suggests sex and womanhood, but in the end she is plastic and empty. She doesn’t have a stomach or a spleen, let alone a uterus.
In her recent interview with Abby Aguirre for Vogue, Margot Robbie explains: “She is sexualized. But she should never be sexy. People can project sex onto her […] Yes, she can wear a short skirt, but because it’s fun and pink. Not because she wanted you to see her butt.”
It reminds me of how adults are quick to sexualize adolescent girls based upon adult conventions. When I was 11 and I wore short shorts, it wasn’t to show off my legs, it was because it was hot outside. Elementary schoolers don’t wear tight spaghetti strap tank tops to show off curves and collarbones. They wear them because they are comfortable.
Barbie is in the end, a girl. She isn’t really a woman. She wants to have every career and she can. The same way I wanted to be a singer-actress-ballerina-teacher-author when I was eight, and I could. It’s like Schrodinger’s cat, until I am nothing I am everything.
She’s Everything. He’s Just Ken.”
Barbie is a canvas upon which girls project themselves. It is not Barbie’s fault what adults project upon her.
A little girl sees a Barbie astronaut and believes she can be one too. Or the president. Or a doctor. Or a friend. In recent years Mattel has made concerted efforts to make more diverse Barbie dolls, so that every child can enjoy this beautiful canvas. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a start.
It’s important to teach children that beauty and brains are not mutually exclusive. Barbie is a gorgeous fashion icon and she is also a rocket scientist. She can enjoy wearing a pink pantsuit to go work at the courthouse. She can run a business on weekdays and be a fashion influencer after hours.
And she takes care of her family, and she’s in a loving relationship–though she doesn’t need a man. But if she wants one, she can have him, this doesn’t reduce her. She is everything.
But this doesn’t stop people from wearing Sexy Barbie halloween costumes. Because she is blank, Barbie is what we make her. Put Barbie in lingerie and she’s sexy. But put Barbie in a chef’s hat and she’s a chef. Adults project their own desires and fantasies onto her in the same way young girls do. But young girls are not fantasizing about sex and legs and collarbones, they are interested in expression. They play.
I’m proud to say Barbie was a role model to me my entire childhood. She taught me that any girl can be a multitude of things. That it’s okay to try everything and to see what sticks. She gave me an outlet to express my interest in fashion, in myself, and in being a girl.
Video Credit: My dad.
Omg the video at the end!!!❤️