I am posting the original spoken word piece I just performed at 50 Shotwell in San Francisco, in the heart of the mission district. This piece was read in the midst of many pieces by women and men all dealing with the subject matter of Barbie, her influence, her legacy. We are all affected.
With no further ado, I give you...."Long plastic Hair"
Long plastic hair. Scissors. Long plastic hair.
I am ten years old, grinning, eyes shining with excitement. I take the scissors to the hair...leaving the helpless dolls shocked at their new makeover…
LESBIAN BARBIES!! All of them! New, improved dyke haircuts all around.
Little girls dreaming big.
Little girls dreaming tiny.
Tiny waists, impossible breasts, we wait for our busts to grow, our ken doll perfect boyfriend, just the right swagger, just the right income level, fast car, picket fence, 2.4 children in private schools
Any American girl knows this.
Any American girl knows the GREAT Disappointment settling in upon realizing that we will never live up,
never measure up, never be her. We know BARBIE cannot truly speak. She does not work, she does not grow.
She exists for fashion, for Ken to come rescue her from her pink box, from her anatomically incorrect prison.
Imagine their relationship.
“Oh Ken, if only we could go to the dream house in Malibu and never have to throw parties with Skipper again. That girl takes way too much attention away from me.”
“Yes, Barbie, your wish is my command.”
“Oh Ken, nobody understands me like you do”
“Yes Barbie, I understand you”
“Do I look fat in this bikini, Ken?”
“No Barbie, you look perfect”
“Perfect, Ken, I look perfect.”
At this point, the lesbian Barbies in my arsenal are rolling their eyes; heaving great sighs,
knowing she will never reach an orgasm with KEN they step in, wanting to free her from her oppressive and twisted dream world.
Little girls dreaming big. Little girls dreaming tiny. Tiny girls dreaming.
Barbie has no clitoris. Her proportions are intended to suggest sexual desirability but she has no way to receive pleasure. Only to convey that she can provide pleasure.
Little girls dreaming, Big girls having nightmares.
Butch and Femme Barbie get together only to realize they lack the parts that make them women. Identities shatter into a million pieces on the kitchen tiles.
Ask Any American girl, she knows the meaning of identity shattering.
You build yourself a space inside your mind, complete with self affirmation and kindness, only to have an insipid television commercial rip away your sanity, tell you that you are inferior, you need this product, you need this make up, you need this relationship or you are not worthy of love….
Let us proclaim to Barbie: seemingly innocuous idol of idealized beauty
we do not worship at the altar of skinny, we will not make way
for the patriarchy
we thank our ancestors who gave us large bone structures or
rounded features
These bodies are our birthrights
The spirits designed us this way
YES, Barbie, we celebrate women
designed by their ancestors
blessed with bodies
that don't fit these ideals
No, we do not worship at the altar of skinny
we do not bow before idols
who lack the fullness and density of true female form
Allow us to radiate the warmth of spirit as shattered identities begin to heal
True reflections allow us to embody
all that is woman
fierce, voracious and abundant.
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