I have a secret obsessions of dolls. Not the modern plasticky dolls, like bratz and alike. I remember my first ever barbie. There was a bitter sweet story behind it, my mother could’nt afford a barbie at christmas and last minute she squirreled money together for me. I still remember how much barbies cost those days. Funny that prices had’nt changed much since. It cost my mother HK$125 for a barbie, sadly she could only afford a GI Jane barbie, it seems that not many people would buy a army barbie, so she was the cheapest option for mom, she tried to ask the shop keeper for a pair of high heels shoes for the doll, how can a barbie be a barbie without heels?
At the end, her army boots will have to do. At the end the poor barbie, was bitten terribly by our family dog.
There was another doll of mine that I found on the street when I was 5, and I was convinced that she was haunted, and I have to use her as a medium to contact the dead. Dolls are creepys things, the huge not proportional eyes, the little nose, and the impossibly small mouth. All the features of something incredibly hard for us to aspire to.
All images from flickr.com.