Barbies & Boyhood
Or, how to make toys less fun
It was my daughter’s 4th birthday party this weekend and I made the mistake of putting out fancy snacks before the pizza arrival, thinking parents would accompany their kids to the high/low buffet and help them assemble plates with the hygienic serving tools I provided.
I forgot that kids’ birthday parties are the rare chance for parents to sit down (yay), have an adult conversation (🤯), and ignore their kids, who are mounting a sugar-and-goodie-bag fueled Lord of the Flies reenactment. (I’m 100% this parent, btw. A $30 gift from Target is a fair trade for letting my kids go feral in their backyard, right?)
As party host I got stuck in the kitchen, policing boys who grabbed fistfuls of mango with their bare, buttpicking hands, stole an entire wedge of aged Gouda, and tried to convince me they’re allowed to drink craft IPAs (they thought it was cans of soda.)
The girls on the other hand? Most of them were too shy to enter the fray, and the ones who did were undeniably whiny — slinky, tentative cats to the boys’ untrained-Golden Retriever energy. I’d feel them tug on my shirt before I noticed them enter the room and they’d mew, “I’m thiiirrrsty,” instead of just asking for a drink. It was a textbook display of gender differences with Appley Ever After juice pouches as props.
One of Nina’s gifts was a Barbie doll: Grocery Shopping Barbie. We knew the time would come when a Barbie landed on Nina’s lap, but hadn’t fully sketched out The Barbie Talk. So the next morning, my husband and I winged it (despite our terrible track record of winging anything) as I extracted the doll from her non-recyclable plastic shell and clipped the elastic shackles from her arms and ankles.
Me: “You know, Barbie does more than grocery shop”
Husband: “She can do anything!”
Me: “She doesn’t have to grocery shop in this miniskirt. And she isn’t the only one in her family who does the grocery shopping, Ken grocery shops too.”
Husband: “Yeah, they both have the app on their phones.”
Me: “And her body is not normal.”
Husband: “That’s not true, all bodies are normal.”
Me: “I mean, not many people have bodies like Barbie. See how she’s super tall with bodacious hips and really skinny legs?”
Husband: “It’s fine that she looks like that but no one is supposed to look like that.”
Meanwhile, Nina says nothing and splays Barbie’s legs to their most impossible angles.
Me: “Wow, look at all these healthy foods Barbie eats! There are vegetables and fruit and eggs in her cart…”
Husband: “Must be how she got so tall!”
I’m under no delusions this was helpful or formative to Nina’s future feminism. And why does conscious, quotidian feminism mean setting up guardrails for every possible iteration of being a woman?
If Barbie were a dumpy middle aged woman in slacks named “Marge” who was always at her desk with a furrowed brow, I’d probably give Nina The Marge Talk, about how life is more than a job that needs to get done, that it’s OK to do things that make you feel beautiful and/or powerful (or both at the same time!), to use exclamation points in emails and life in general.
All the angles of being a girl and woman (not to mention mother) are impossible, but I run into it with the boy, too:
Do I intervene when he and his friends roughhouse, or is it OK to “let boys be boys” until someone starts crying? And why does “let boys be boys” mean “let boys be violent?” And why am I calling it violence?? If anyone else used that term for a typical 5-year old thwacking his friends on the head with a pink unicorn balloon, I’d be talking shit at the afterparty.
Boys get these labels too often at an early age, and they grow up to meet the low opinions we give them. There’s a fantastic book about this (plus other data pointing to American boyhood being in crisis), but the New Jersey philosopher Redman also summed it up with with “I’ll Bee Dat” in the 90s.
Is there a hack for that?
I hate to be the online pseudo-essayist whose main point is “shit’s so fucked up RN!” but I’d also be lying if now I revealed a parenting hack for steering boys away from toxic masculinity while also holding space for their natural course of experimentation and learning, while also maintaining boundaries without shaming them, and boosting their self esteem so they don’t grow up to be Proud Boys.
My only hope is to be a parent my kids come to with questions when they eventually stumble on social landmines and cultural forces that label them, warp their self image, and prey on their dissatisfaction — rather than a parent who takes the fun out of every toy and game with a prepared speech. My second only hope is for woodwork or lawn darts to make a comeback and replace social media by the time my kids are in middle school
In the meantime, can we at least nail the easy stuff? Teach our daughters to assertively ask for water when they’re thirsty? And teach boys to say please and thank you when we’re not looking.
News, Events & Recs
Workshop: Life Strategy, Live!
Five years ago I had the idea to adapt a brand strategy framework to everyday life, and with lots of practice and feedback, I’ve expanded the exercises and turned them into a live workshop!
I’ll share more details soon but if you’re already on board, you can sign up for the Jan 26 session today and get 10% off the final workshop price. (Price goes up this Friday.)
Co-Working: Join the 6AM Club (Free!)
I’ve mentioned maybe once or twice that I am vulva-deep in writing the first ugly draft of a terrible novel (it’s easier than writing the final draft of an excellent novel.)
I aim for 1,000 words a day a la Jami Attenberg but if I don’t do it first thing in the morning, it doesn’t get done. Thus, I’ve made the uncomfortable decision to wake up early at least 2 days a week and write. Misery loves company, so now I’m inviting you!
Yes, New York’s hottest new club pops off on Google Hangouts every Wednesday and Friday at 6am. It has disheveled bedheads, eye crust, and momentary resentment before you begin writing, then feel the glow of accomplishment by 7am and wonder why you haven’t done this every morning of your entire life.
This free co-working session open to any kind of writer or artist looking for a bit of accountability to devote the first hour of their day to their craft. Sign up to receive the calendar invite, and I’ll send you an inspirational note of encouragement the night before!
Recs
I’m watching…
Nathan Fielder’s brand of cringe has evolved into something way darker and cynical. It moves sloooowww — stuff happens, but you don’t know where it’s going. I don’t even know what genre it is but I’m hoping they know and there’s a reveal by the end. So far it seems to be about how stupid we look when we try to look like “good people.”
I can’t use previous seasons as a point of reference because I haven’t watched any, but this one is pretty good! It’s creepier than The Curse, and it’s about a centuries old curse with debt as a motif/thematic vehicle, plus a little Kill Bill meets the Coen Brothers. There’s social commentary: a local school board meeting turns into a riot, a religious militia plans to “take this country back,” and a suburban mom arms her house to the teeth because “society is breaking down.”
Those are two really dark recommendations, sorry.
I’m listening…
With Great Power, the Wall Street Journal’s podcast about Marvel Studios. Disclaimer: I can’t name a Marvel movie I’ve ever watched but the story of how the company was a lowly backroom startup that leveraged some cheap IP and turned it into multi-billion juggernaut is fascinating.
That’s it for this week!
Excited that you’re writing a novel, Phoebe!