32a bra

I Have No Beef with Barbie


I keep seeing this ‘Lammily’ doll around the Internet. She’s supposed to be the realistically proportioned version of Barbie. I’m a feminist, and I’m all about equal representation, so I’m going to sloppily tell you why I don’t give a single shit about Lammily or Barbie’s long-hated form.

Barbie is a doll.
That’s right; she’s not real. She’s a toy. Like most toys, she’s not an accurate portrayal of real life. Like this:

…or this:

…or this:

I don’t want to be yellow with crescent moons for hands – just like I don’t want to be over 7 feet tall with no genitalia like Barbie.

Yes, I do maintain my weight with nutrition and exercise, and I do have blonde hair. Having less excess body fat helps me feel healthy and active, and you can thank my Czech, Irish, and German roots for the blonde hair. This has nothing to do with Barbie. She’s not an example of true life expectation for me – or for anyone else. If anyone has ever given Barbie as their goal for appearance, they may be delusional. And that’s not a joke.

For me, growing up in the early 90s, Barbie was actually a major inspiration. She had so many careers! She was an astronaut, a veterinarian, a doctor! She wasn’t held down by any gender stereotypes, and it probably did cause me to hold myself to higher standards. We all know I would never expect less of women simply because they are women – and Barbie – not the size of her waist – had something to do with that.

So why change her? This seems reminiscent of that weird campaign I always see around the Internet:


Nothing is better or hotter or more real than anything else. I wear a size 32A bra. I wear a size 0 dress. I was born as a petite woman, and I’m proud of what I am. Just like I would be proud if I had curves or fat or one eye. Don’t put me down because of society. Join with me, and let’s all be amazing (or super insecure) together!

And let Barbie be Barbie. Because who cares? She’s a doll.