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this Barbie is gay

@wizard-daisybloom

she/they | 19 | pfp by pauchoks | banner by sharpesjoy (pinned post) | I’m obsessed with way too many things and blather about these obsessions here
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Anyway Barbie sitting on a bench, just having cried for the first time and looking over at an old woman and very genuinely complimenting her beauty was such a lovely moment. Because not long before, Barbie was freaking out about cellulite. But here in the Real World, where everything is so much more complicated than she could have imagined, so much more painful, she looks over and sees a woman who has actually lived. Aging is a privilege not afforded to everybody, and this little old woman, with all these years and experiences inside her, quite happy and at peace and secure with herself (she knows she’s beautiful), represents what Barbie is only starting to understand, that real death is staying the same forever.

That’s why it’s so important that The Ghost Of Ruth Handler, a little old lady herself, is the one who guides her into real life. She warns Barbie that by choosing to live, she must by necessity die. But in keeping with the themes of growing up, of adulthood, of womanhood, Barbie now knows that you can’t ever really return to the version of yourself that didn’t know something. Children, most children anyway, don’t really understand death. Part of the emotional struggle of adolescence and young adulthood is having to come to grips with the inevitable fact that your parents will die someday, as will everyone you love, and you yourself. If you’re lucky, not for many years. But it will happen.

And I think that’s why the turning point is “do you guys ever think about dying?” That’s why it matters that the girl playing with Barbie and changing her is a middle-aged woman. Gloria is grappling with her own morality and stifled creativity and feeling her daughter slip away from her and looking back on those days of innocent joyful play and the thing is that it’s all so sweetly painfully joyously human that it changes Barbie.

There’s a maiden(s), mother(s), and crone(s) aspect at play, and Barbie is all three and none at all. She is Ruth’s daughter and she is at once old (64 this year) and young (a toy for children, sexless and innocent and optimistic). Sasha is her past and Gloria is her present and the old woman on the park bench, filled up with years and life and peace and joy, is her future.

Barbie chose to become human, but it was also never really a choice. You can’t un-know something, you can’t ever go backward, you can only go forward. Humans only have one ending. The only alternative to growing is dying. And death may be inevitable, but better later than sooner. The child must become the adult. The adult must become the elder. The elder must eventually die. And living all those years is a gift even when it’s painful and Barbie embraces it.

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manywinged

wore my thigh high boots on a walk today and we had to take a path through some long grass and while everyone else was rolling their pants into their socks and putting on jackets to protect themselves from ticks i was standing there smug as hell in my thigh high leather boots.

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manywinged

a hoe never gets lyme disease

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beth-march

I can’t stop thinking about how perfectly Barbie portrays girlhood and growing up… How you’re born in a perfect pink world, where you make the rules and get to prioritise whimsies and friendship and beauty, and then you notice something has changed, you discover that something is wrong with you, and you’re offered an illusion of choice, but even if you’d rather keep wearing your heels and go home and be safe and comfortable, you have to choose the Birkenstock, you have to leave your home, you have to grow up. So you’re thrust into this gritty, unfeeling world, where you’re scrutinised and suppressed, where you want to disappear into yourself, because everything is harsh and big and you are tiny and fragile and inadequate. And as overwhelming and impossible as it seems, you survive it. You find truth in the things you believed in when you were young, the inherent good in humanity, connection and love; your friends who look at you while you are crying, and tell you that they cannot imagine what it is that you do not like about yourself.

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beth-march

A few people have interacted with this post negatively and I just want to clarify that I’m describing a rigid frame of girlhood, based on my own experiences growing up, and it is not meant to be relatable to every woman and person.

The Barbie movie really said. Yes you will grow up and childhood wonder will vanish. Yes you will grow up and learn to hate yourself, your body, your awkwardness. Yes you will grow up and lose your confidence and certainty and sense of purpose. Yes you will grow up and the world will seem a bleaker, lonelier place every day, and society will seem bleaker and lonelier every day, and you won’t understand what went wrong in the span of just a few years, what took you from a happy and secure young girl to a sad, uncertain, scared grown woman.

And yet. You will learn to find beauty again. You will find joy in not having a purpose, in building a purpose for yourself. You will find beauty in connection, with the people and the world around you. You will learn to love signs of ageing as proof of a life well lived, of experience and happiness. You will take that little girl by the hand and tell her “I know, this isn’t what you thought it would be, but it’s real. Let me show you how beautiful it can be.”

Y'all remember my last post about the podcast with Greta Gerwig and Nick Houy and how a lot of musical choices in the movie were intentional? .... Did y'all catch the song Gloria was playing in the car when she picked Sasha up from school and saw Barbie being taken away by Mattel? It's this one. Weeping more