Thanks to a free trial of Starz, we’ve had a lot of exposure to the Toy Story movies—all three of them—this summer.
Maybe it’s having the theme of “Toys are People Too” repeatedly hammered into my psyche, or maybe it’s the fact that my baby girl is going to be–deep breath–5 years old this summer, but recently I’ve felt the need to reconnect with my old dolls. I asked, and my dad was kindly enough to rummage through the attic to retrieve my stored playthings.
What an unusually emotional experience it was to sort through those cardboard packing crates. Admittedly, my strength as a writer does not lie in adequately describing feelings; suffice it to say that I wasn’t prepared for the mix of nostalgia, joy, territoriality (no Kate—that’s Mommy’s Barbie), and, yes, sadness, that came over me.
Some of the toys seemed very unfamiliar to me. For example, I don’t really remember the crazy octagonal 80’s version of a hot tub that Kate is especially drawn to. I recognize it a little, but I am sure I never played with it too often.
Others were uncannily familiar. The dresses—by FAR my favorite part of playing with Barbie dolls was the dress-up aspect—I snapped on and adjusted just so, as if I’d never stopped playing with them.
The faces on my dolls seemed strange to me. I thought I’d look into the painted-on eyes and remember exactly who each doll was, but I didn’t. I did recognize one by her hair; her main selling point was that a child could give her a perm, straighten the hair back out, and perm it again. One time with the Barbie-brand perm solution was too much for the poor dear, and she spent much of my childhood in the hospital (a desk drawer) being treated for her unfortunate condition.
My Princess Leia doll (pictured) was also oddly familiar, considering that I didn’t play with her as much as I did my other dolls. She is just a tad too tall/big to share the Barbie clothes, but she has one feature in her favor: her gorgeous, easy-to-style plastic hair (and in case you’re wondering, I think she did have the buns once upon a time, briefly, before my little fingers got to them). Plus, she kind of looks like Carrie Fisher, and that’s always made her face a little easier to recall.
The one doll I was hoping to find still in good shape, ready to be dressed and have her hair combed out, was Peaches and Cream Barbie. I think I identified her naked form, but sadly the dress was not among the collection my dad brought down from the attic.
Between the Toy Story movies and the experience with my old dolls—which are a little worse for the wear after being exposed to extreme attic temps—I’ve thought a lot about my kids’ toys and which we’ll keep. Jack has a few select favorites; Kate feels like every toy she’s ever been given is precious in its own way.
I’m sure we’ll hold on to many of them. Some we’ll give away or donate, but Jack’s Nighttime Sleeping Monkey and Kate’s own collection of Barbie dolls will probably always be with us.
How about you and your family—have you had a “Toy Story” moment yet? Any toys you can’t bear to see relegated to the donation box?
Rachael McMillan is a former high school teacher, social worker, cake decorator, and just about any other profession you can think of do-er. In addition to writing, tutoring, and giving talks about fair trade, she is currently staying home with the highly entertaining Jack and Kate.