Saturday, August 4, 2007

I Blame Santa

I can't remember how this came up, but my coworker Amanda asked me, today, if I was a tomboy when I was little. I like to think of myself as having been a Renaissance Child, as I tried basically every activity possible. Extra-curricular, curricular, whatever it takes. Ballet, Tap, Jazz, gymnastics, tennis, horseback riding, piano, flute, judo, softball, soccer - okay those last three were athletic and tomboy-ish, I suppose, but I also LU-HUUUUVED my dolls.

I had Tiffany Taylor (woo-woo!)



I found this sweet photo (try not to focus too long on her legs - they're weird), as well as the following blurb on BigRedToyBox. And I have to say, I was a mite perturbed by the hair color generalization:

"Tiffany's gimmick allowed her to change hair colors even faster than the popular wash-it-in and wash-it-out process of today. Her hair was attached to a dial on top of her head. It was blonde (more like white) on one side and black on the other. Just change the dial and part her hair and just like that she is ready to be a librarian or a starlet."

And just what is that supposed to mean?

I loved Tiffany and her dual hair color - and think it was most likely the inspiration for certain pop-(if I can use the word) starlets.



I'm just saying. That is no librarian.

Tiffany Taylor and her dual-toned mane, however, paled in comparison to my Darci doll.


Santa brought Darci to me one year for Christmas, and so began my obsessive adoration with fashion. My Darci doll was a brunette, so I immediately identified with her. She came equipped with her very own white plastic pedestal, on which you could pose her, in her various mini-outfits, and photograph each different outfit with your brand new Kodak One-Step camera. Using up every sheet of film. If you were that kind of ridiculous and wasteful child, I mean.


I specifically remember this gold disco outfit, and another burgundy number - below in the fake "New Woman" Darci-mini-magazine:

I think I had about four different Darci ensembles, and felt the compulsion to photograph her in each of the four outfits, and also in each of her possible poses, in each of the four outfits. I wasted an enormous amount of film. Had I only known; Darci's closet was as full then, as mine is now:




That last one is eerily similar to the outfit I bought in Brazil...and even more frightening, is the plain and simple fact that I would totally wear any of those other outfits. Right now. If I could manage to fit them into my overstuffed closet.

So, mom and dad, the next time you ask me how many pairs of shoes I own, or peek your head into my closet while mockingly sneering "I don't have anything to weaaaaaar"; think about who is to blame here.