Growing up, I found any excuse to play Barbies. I dressed them up and re-arranged their houses. My Barbies experienced the monumental parts of life; she dated, broke-up, had babies, and got married (Naughty Barbie may have even found herself at the local bar). Barbie and her friends lived out every little girl’s dreams.
One Christmas, my gifts consisted of the entire Barbie wedding set. This included everyone from Ken, the groom, to, Todd, the ring bearer. Of course my aunts helped me create Barbie’s dream wedding, complete with toilet paper to represent the isle.
I was glad to have a little sister that shared my love for Barbies. When my friends and I started junior high, most of us put away our dolls and Barbies. Not me. I had a younger sister that I had to play with (wink, wink).
As I was snooping online the other day, this article caught my eye. A tattooed Barbie?!? Sure enough, it's Barbie sporting a pink bob and flowery tattoos. I just have to say: I. Love. This. I mean, everyone else gets to express themselves. Why not Barbie? She is a doctor, teacher, and gymnast. There is no reason she can’t show some ink.
Barbie, I always knew you were a bad@#$.
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