My wife wants to blog for me today about Ken and Barbie clothing, so here she is:
My daughter, girly girl to beat all girly girls, (in this house at least), loves barbie. (She also has a Ken but not of her free will, he was a gift and she only plays with him as an afterthought.) ... Right, she love Barbies.
She loves the doll and Barbie clothes - she is so cute. However, she cannot put the clothes onto the dolls. Tell me why, even today when Barbie is not unrealistically proportioned; she finally has manageable breasts and less back pain; still, she cannot fit into her wardrobe. The poor girl only wants to be fashionable, yet comfortable. Is that too much to ask? Every time she wants to change party dresses, or swimsuits my daughter has to come to me. All those years of dismembering Barbie did have a purpose after all!
Today she brings me Ken who she has begun to clothe with new pants. This is beach Ken and his other pants are way drafty, so we were happy when Ken got new clothes. Imagine, Ken who has been mauled by the family dog, has only half of one of his arms and the other hand is horribly disfigured, he has this smile on his face that seems to say, "Clothe me." Poor Ken is now in the hands of a lesbian mom.
I struggle with his pants and ponder, "Why are Barbie clothes always too small?"
I ask Ken, " Have you been working out?"
He smiles, "Why, yes."
I tell Ken, "You've gotta lay off that pizza."
He smiles, "Look Lady, I never asked to be naked in your cold hands."
My wife chimes in, "Maybe those are Barbie's pants."
"No." It's too perfect that not only are Barbie's clothes too small but so are Kens. Poor, Beefcake, Beach Bum Ken. The Feminist Justice is too great to ignore.
Just then, my daughter thoughtfully appears with Ken's drafty beach pants.
Ken smiles gratefully as he slides gently into his drafty beach pants. He smiles, "Ahhh."