I am in the habit of rescuing dolls from places like Goodwill. I particularly look for the abused or over-loved toys that may be a little bit marked up or a little bit broken. My work table (which was once-upon-a-time a drawing table before being over-loaded with unfinished projects) is loaded with doll parts and beat-up dolls. In the photo Paffooney you can see two naked dolls that I have been working on. One is a Disney Princess, Ariel the Little Mermaid. The other is a Barbie doll with jointed arms and legs, possibly a ballerina in her previous doll life with molded ballet slippers. The fairy in the foreground is possibly a real fairy that I have coerced into lending me some of her magic to help these poor once-loved toy dolls. We are in the process of rehabilitating them.
Now, you realize that Disney dolls are more cheaply made than Barbie dolls (that is important to understanding the evil corporate empire run by a cartoon mouse primarily for hideously huge profits… I love Disney, but it is evil). Ariel has a funky body that has a signature lopsided waist joint. She is proportioned in ways that make her hard to make clothes for, and definitely hard to dress in Barbie clothes. That was intentionally done because Disney is in competition with Mattel and, besides, the basic Barbie body is patented. Disney can’t just steal the entire design.
The thing about dolls is that they are created for little girls to love. And their plastic princess personalities are kinda air-headed. They become easily addicted to the love they get from little girls, and they continue to soak it in no matter what it does to their bodies or how it shortens their potentially immortal plastic lives. Ariel came to me with marks on her legs from black and red markers, and apparently melted rubber bands. I had to scrape and clean her bendable soft-plastic legs with cleaning alcohol (the same stuff I use to reduce anti-electric build-up on the wheels and rails of model trains). Her hair was a sunburned frizzy mess. It looked exactly like you’d expect an addict’s hair to look. I had to start to combing it with a metal dog comb, and then I was able to use one of the human combs I used on my own hair and beard. Finally, I found a cheap Barbie costume that has an open seam in front to wrap around the and seal with Velcro.
I dressed Ariel by stretching the fabric around her (especially the badly-proportioned bosom… dang that evil, sexist Disney design). I only had to twist her delicate arms slightly out of shape to make the dress that was never intended to fit her actually fit. You can see that I still need to find a way to restore color to her sunburned hairdo, but it is plastic, and if no little girl talks her back into her cycle of addiction, I can probably use acrylic paint. Ariel looks much better and healthier than when I found her. Of course, I learned to do this doll rehab bit from having a daughter who played with dolls in a brutal way that apparently required ritual sacrifice and dismemberment. Let me show you one of her Princess Jasmine dolls I saved successfully from addiction and death.
Catch a Falling Star 