Life in the dream house

Barbies: I. Just. Love. Them.

When my mom bought me my first Barbie doll, I thought she was pretty magical. She wasn’t a special edition or anything, she was just a standard doll, blond, blue eyed, plastic smile, but out of all my toys, she was my favourite (okay, maybe only second place to that one My Little Pony with the yellow skin and the blue tail and smelt like somebody had fermented her in fish oil, that was one cool pony). I knew then that I definitely was a doll-loving sort of person. There’s something inexplicably attractive about people made miniature, and all the mundane things that made up their lives made into plastic miniatures. Maybe it’s the uncanny valley syndrome, the god-complex, heck I dunno, all I know is that here I am centuries later and I still love them. My collection is a far cry from anything outstanding, but I adore every single one of these:

My gals (This isn’t everybody yet. I’ve got three BB girls en route from my sister when this photo was taken.)

My Boys:

And the best thing? I can fit all of them in the one tub with some room for more!

Continue reading “Life in the dream house”

Life in the dream house