Anatomically Impossible
Anatomically Impossible
1968
Mattel sent Barbie to the moon back in 1965, leaving the USSR and the U.S. in her wake. As an astronaut, Barbie’s sales continue to soar through the stratosphere. Little girls everywhere are orbiting the planets and letting their imaginations take them to the farthest galaxies of their minds. Meanwhile, back on Earth, there’s pandemonium all around. Boys are growing their hair longer while girls are wearing their skirts shorter. Hundreds of thousands gather to protest the Vietnam War. Young men are burning their draft cards while the civil rights movement and the women’s movement steadily churn, picking up speed like hurricanes looking to make landfall.
It’s around this time that Stevie tags along with Vivian to her first consciousness-raising session. She has no idea what to expect. All Vivian’s told her is that it’s a group of women who get together and talk about all kinds of things, which is somehow supposed to be empowering. They arrive at a bungalow in Silver Lake. The smell of patchouli incense greets them at the door. There are about fifteen women, most of them around Stevie and Vivian’s age. The living room is small. All the seats are taken, women are sitting knee against knee on the couch, others perch on the armrests while some take the oversized pillows on the floor. Stevie and Vivian opt for a space on the rug, next to some other late arrivals.
Everyone is friendly, welcoming. There’s a safe, open feeling in the air as they take turns sharing the most intimate aspects of their lives, and before the night is over, Stevie will know more about these strangers than some of her girlfriends whom she’s known since grade school. Some confess to having had abortions and others sob for friends who died that way. One woman talks about being raped and how the police officer said it was because she dressed like a tease. A twenty-nine-year-old doctor claims she can’t find a job because the male surgeons say she’s too emotional and can’t operate when she has her period. A young mother cries because she feels like a slave to her husband and children. She went to graduate school and holds a master’s in journalism. She has no idea what happened to her life. A single mother complains there’s no childcare available. How can she go to work and support her family if there’s no one to take care of her children during the day? Like Stevie, many of them reject the status quo of their mothers’ generation, which prompts Stevie to talk about her own mother. She surprises herself when she begins telling them about her fears of ending up like her and how close she came to repeating the same mistake.
That night, they cry, they laugh, they reassure one another that No, it’s not just you. They want to open credit cards in their own names. They’re tired of being discounted, underappreciated and, above all, sexualized. They are more than tits and ass. They have brains and their own brand of brawn. They embolden one another and are calling for revolution. A surge of strength and unity overcomes them all.
Stevie feels a connection with these women. At least she does until the evening takes a turn. She doesn’t even remember who brought up Barbie, but in no time, the others are joining in.
“That damn doll embodies everything we’re against,” says one woman.
“Personally,” says their hostess, “I’d like to wipe that smile off her face.”
“Her body’s completely distorted,” another one says. “She’s an anatomical impossibility…”
“And what about her diet book?” says another. “Did you guys hear about that?”
Stevie shifts on the floor, keeping her eyes low. Aside from Vivian, no one knows she works for Mattel and had a hand in creating Barbie’s diet book. It was sold with Barbie’s Slumber Party ensemble in the 1600 series: a sweet pink silk pajama set with a matching robe and slippers. The problem is it includes a bathroom scale set at 110 pounds and a diet book. At the time, Stevie thought they were so clever by putting How to Lose Weight on the front cover and Don’t Eat on the back. Isn’t that cute? Won’t that be fun? They got more hate mail than ever before.
Stevie wanted to scream, We didn’t mean “Don’t Eat” literally! Still, she blames herself. She should have known better. She sees what’s happening with Ginger. Right before her eyes she’s witnessing a grown woman trying to turn herself into a Barbie doll. And why? Just to get the attention of a man? Barbie is supposed to be aspirational and remind girls of all the choices they have, not make them feel bad about their bodies.
The others are still going on and on about Barbie, and Stevie is feeling defensive. They’re attacking not just her doll but Ruth and Charlotte. And Jack. She wants to set them straight, explain the reason why Barbie’s waist is so small, why her feet are so tiny.
Someone else chimes in: “Barbie’s a dangerous role model for young girls. She’s destroying their innocence. Confusing them. Barbie is not what a woman’s body is supposed to look like.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Stevie explodes. “She’s a doll—a plastic toy. No one’s asking anyone to look like her.” They’re all staring at her now. “You know,” she says, unable to pull herself back, “I was on board with everything I heard here tonight, right up until you started in on Barbie. She’s not the problem. You’re blaming Barbie because it’s easier than taking on the real culprits—society, the government, the men in our lives.”
That moves them off Barbie, and for the next hour they take on the chauvinists.