I can’t help myself. I have to get this out, from high atop my soap box, even though it’s kinda pitiful to degrade GoGoPance to a post about American Girl Dolls. I am financially and morally against this business that reeks of yuppie exclusivity; however, my Goddaughter has two of them and a giggly fondness for all associated outfits and accessories. They make her happy, so I am more than happy to keep my thoughts to myself – and to the Interwebs of course – at this time. I also know one day we’ll be on the same sarcastic, grown-up page. But until then I will just stockpile material.
In three days I was at the American Girl Doll store on 5th Avenue twice, once to buy the birthday gift certificates and once to spend the birthday gift certificates. Some take-a-ways:
On the left, “American Girl Doll Gynecological Kit.” On the right, “Mommy Abuses Me Accessory Kit.”
The magnificently stereotyped “Jungle Play Tent” set:
Finally, “Housewife American Girl Doll.” She comes with her own bottle of Valium, one restraining order and a carton of Marlboro Reds.
Closing note: Each AGD comes with her own background story. When my Goddaughter got hers a couple Christmases ago we read the story together. The Daddy was a doctor who took care of wounded soldiers in England circa WW2. Next to that part of the book was a printed picture of Hitler.
I do not make this stuff up.