Firstly, let me say this: I played with Barbie from about age four to about age ten. I realize that some young girls play with Barbie past the age of ten but probably not too much into their teenage years. When I was that age, I didn't care what Barbie looked like because I knew she was a toy. I knew Barbie was not a real person. Just like I knew G.I. Joe (who was Barbie's boyfriend in my fantasy world) wasn't real and Skipper (Barbie's sister?) wasn't real and all the other toys I played with were....well, toys.
I also knew that Barbie was a grown woman (she had boobs) and that I didn't look like Barbie because I was a little girl. My mom didn't look like Barbie, neither did my Aunts, teachers, or other adult women in my life. The adult women in my life were highly diversified: I had a basketball coach who was all of 5'1" with cropped steel gray hair and a voice you knew you had to listen to; I had a babysitter named Mimi with skin like a milky way who I loved to cuddle with because she was so soft; I had teachers who were from Spain, Mexico, and New York; I had (and currently have) friends who's skin tones and shapes were vastly different and I never thought to myself: why don't my friends/peers/teachers look like Barbie?
