BARBIES AND BEADS

February 21, 2014

I am living in a beautiful large, airy apartment which has more windows than walls – it’s like an old Victorian conservatory. The windows overlook lovely grounds that are full of gardens, lawns and shade trees. However, as nice as my accommodations are, I really don’t have much time to admire them, because I am busy taking care of a small child, a little girl of about five years of age. I’m like a governess and tutor to her.

I am also offered a very exciting job – designing medieval and other historical costumes for the Barbie and Ken dolls. For this, I need to go into a studio, which means leaving my charge. After some thought, I make arrangements to enroll her in a school part time, thinking that my job would allow me to work from home frequently. Reporting to work on that first morning, I am delighted with all the rich fabrics around me, and the rows upon rows of naked pink and brown Barbies. 

Eager to begin, I grab a sketch pad and draw out several designs – a sideless surcote, a houppaland and a Norse gown, then go looking for suitable material. Here I run into a problem. My supervisor, the woman who offered me the job, suddenly begins to show her dissatisfaction with everything that I am doing, insisting that my designs are wrong. I tell her that I know the historical accuracies, and even point them out in reference books. She refuses to acknowledge them, and hands me a very small scrap of dark gold super shiny polyester fabric, and tells me that this is what I need to use. I can’t even make a set of sleeves out of that scrap, and tell her I won’t be working for her much longer if that is the way I’m going to be treated.

She backs off then, and I grab some bolts of fabric, my sketches, and go home. There I find my little girl playing with a friend, and they have turned my neat apartment upside down. Everything is in a disarray. I can’t really be angry with them, though, because they’re happily stringing beads together. I ask if they want me to join them, and they both shake their heads, wanting to do this alone. I go away and work on my designs, until they tell me they’re finished. I ask to see their creations and they simply point to a huge mess in the middle of my room. They have unstrung everything and just left the floor littered with tiny seed beads. I’m horrified, but also can’t help laughing. Ah, such are the joys of youth!

I send them outside to play in the garden, and then begin to clean up. I can’t quite decide if I should just vacuum it all up, or take the time to gather all the beads, and finally decide that I can always afford another package or two from the dollar store as I get the vacuum cleaner. With my apartment tidied up again, I go into another part of the house and am shocked to find it empty. There is only a couple of stacks of magazines left, and I suddenly am horrified to realize all the material and sketches I brought from work are gone! I go through the magazines, hoping that I’ll find the fabrics there, but no such luck. There is nothing I can do – I don’t have that job any more. The despair passes quickly as I come to the conclusion I can always make such fashions for Barbie dolls on my own, but now, at this moment, all I want to do is go outside and play with the girls. Out I run, laughing, and hop onto a swing…