With blonde hair, blue eyes, and an athletic build I have been called Barbie countless times throughout my life. I know most intend to use to term as a compliment, but I have never been amused nor quite comfortable with the notion. Since as early as I can remember (and as recent as last Monday) people have called me Barbie. Quite often I’m called Barbie by complete strangers, either male or female. I am always left wondering why one feels comparing me to a young child’s plastic toy would please me. To the contrary, being deemed Barbie is quite ridiculous. I do not understand the allure whatsoever.
It is germane to mention I have absolutely nothing against the Barbie Doll manufactured by Mattel, and as a child I frequently played with the toy. It is imperative to remember a Barbie Doll is a mere toy. Conversely, I am a woman, and most definitely not a toy for anyone to play with. Calling a woman Barbie equates her to a material object others can easily manipulate. This insinuation is annoying and inappropriate. I believe calling a woman ‘Barbie’ perpetuates the idea that women are inferior, which is a ginormous fallacy. [I will refer you all to Chapter 1 (Big Fish, Little Fish) of Stephen Jay Gould’s book Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s Toes (1983).]
Ultimately, I am more than my superficial external appearance, much more. I have opinions and thoughts formulated from years of living, studying, and talking to countless brilliant individuals. Behind my blue eyes and blonde hair is a brain that has spent hours reading hundreds upon hundreds of books. I have built up many passions in my life that have been accompanied by countless emotions. I love having my own ideas and the ability to choose what is best for me. I want no one to look at me as an object, but rather as a woman of intellect who has the potential make a difference in this world. I am a dynamic human as are all of you. I rejoice in the fact that my life never has to be perfect because at its core perfection is utterly boring.
Calling me Barbie is a way those in the past have used to insinuate I was not worthy of an opinion simply because they disagreed with me. “Listen Barbie… you don’t understand.” The dumb blonde stereotype is alive and well, and it infuriates me. Why do we work so hard to bring each other down? I have never understood why we do not make a proactively effort to support one another.
So, in conclusion, call a girl beautiful, smart, clever, quirky, athletic, or passionate, I honestly do not care, but stop referring to women as toys. Furthermore, I think women should stop putting up with this. You are better than this; you are a living, breathing, strong individual who is exponentially more interesting and beautiful than any plastic object will ever be.