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I visited American Girl this weekend with my nine-year-old niece. Have you ever been to American Girl? It’s an experience that is nearly impossible to describe, but I knew we were in for a helping of absurdity when we walked in the front door and were greeted by burly security men with earpieces. SECURITY MEN. For a children’s doll store.

Here’s a refresher for those who may be unfamiliar: It’s an absurd mecca of consumption. Okay, maybe I’m editorializing there just a smidge. But seriously, the most inexpensive doll is more than $40 (and it’s a pathetic shell of what the real ones are to behold), and the average price point is over $100. And that’s the basic package. The stores themselves are like Disney World — or rather, the Disney gift shops — replete with frenzied looking children and their overly solicitous mothers, and I swear, they deliberately make the entrance and exit as confusing as a casino’s, for finding a way out was impossible.

There were outfits for the dolls, and matching outfits for the girls themselves, and I swear, I didn’t see anything cheaper than $10, which sounds inexpensive until you consider the fact that it’s a pair of glasses. For your DOLL. Worse, there was a beauty parlor where you could have “professionals” do your doll’s hair, pierce her ears or — oh, I can hardly type it — GET YOUR DOLL A FACIAL. A DOLL. THAT DOES NOT HAVE SKIN.

I know I sound like Andy Rooney here, but come ON. The whole thing struck me as everything that’s wrong with America. As Adam put it, and at the risk of sounding cliche, there are kids in third-world countries that can’t afford to clothe themselves, and there we are, making an entire business out of clothing our DOLLS, not to mention PAYING FOR THEM TO HAVE A FACIAL. I know! I know! ANDY FUCKING ROONEY. And I’m ALL for playing beauty parlor with your dolls, but you know, there’s a bit of magic and creativity taken out of the whole process when you can take them to an ACTUAL BEAUTY PARLOR.

This. This kind of excessive shit is what got us into this economic meltdown. THIS.

ANDY ROONEY.

American Girl is why having a daughter is the most terrifying thing in the entire world. Because I swear, I am going to be that crazy bitch mom who says she can only have ONE American Girl doll if she saves her own money or for a VERY SPECIAL OCCASION, like, if her father is elected president of the United States, and then? She can’t get the doll’s hair done under threat of head-shaving.

I hastily add that if you don’t share my sentiments, I understand. Hell, my niece, who I love very much, has FOUR of these bad boys, and I do believe she had one of their ears pierced this weekend, so help me mother of God.

(Edited to add, also commented: The historical dolls? Cool, in theory. I get that. However, I saw that as such a TEENY TINY part of the overall store. The historical dolls were, quite frankly, barely visible, hidden by piles and piles of doll & child jean jackets and pricey sweatshirts and doll salons. In-fucking-sanity. The whole focus on the history/doll/book? Gone. And if the movie, etc. DOES send good messages that girls shouldn’t be tarted up pre-teens, the store does EVERYTHING IT CAN to undo that message. DOLL FACIALS AND MANICURES.)

Anyway, now that THAT is out of the way, your selection of random bullets:

– Evan Rachel Wood as Sophie-Anne? The worst. The WORST. And I LIKE Evan Rachel Wood. For God’s sake, I met her once, under extremely awkward circumstances (an unbloggable story, alas, as it is work-related, and sort of incriminating towards a former colleague) and she was GRACIOUS and DOWN TO EARTH. And … Jesus, she was awful on True Blood. Awful. Like high school drama awful, people. AWFUL. And for a show that notoriously features bad, over the top acting, that’s saying something. Truly.

– One of the funny things about parenting is that you become proud of the most laughably stupid things, and yet, in context, they are AMAZING. Today, for example, I was watching Sam in the rear view mirror on my way to the farm stand, and noticed that her hat (her motherfucking sun hat, stupid parking lot lady) had moved to cover her eyes, and she was getting annoyed. A month — oh, hell, even a WEEK — ago, that would have been cause for screaming and pulling over and mad drama.

Today? My kid, she just reached up and took her hat off and put it in her lap. I know, I know, stop the presses, my baby took her hat off. BIG DEAL. I get how that sounds stupid, but when you watch a person start from an alarmingly amoeba-like state, it’s crazy to see her evolve and like, use her hands like she’s a person or something.

– I’m part of a fun new project on the Interwebs with some alarmingly talented and familiar people — Polite Fictions. It’s a bit of a vanity project with a bunch of people who like to write and do so quite well, insert obligatory self-deprecating disclaimer here. (No, really.)

The idea is that we’re all writing bits of a story, four paragraphs at a time per person, per day. It’s a helluva good time for me, and I’m hoping the end result is just as interesting.

– For WEEKS, Adam and I have been spontaneously breaking into this song. In front of our child. When she gains comprehension skills, we’re so, so very fucked.

Happy Wednesday!

*The Sundays

58 comments September 1st, 2009