I’ve been watching Barbie again, it’s been a day, and I’m gonna let myself get melancholy for a second.
Y’all remember Kate McKinnon’s ‘Weird Barbie’? Cause I fucking love and relate to her.
According to their Barbie lore, she was the most beautiful Barbie till a kid played too hard with her. Her hair was cut, burnt. Her face scratched and painted on. Her legs stretched to the extremes, till she’s almost always in the splits. As a result she was then ostracised from her community, from Barbieland. She lives alone in the mountain, she has no roles in the community, she barely comes down to town because as the Barbies said: you have to GO see weird Barbie, she doesn’t come over.
They call her ‘Weird Barbie’ both behind her back and also to her face. Stereotypical Barbie is derisive of her, she screams at the mere prospect of turning out like Weird Barbie. And then later on, she legit says “I’m just like you now, Ugly and Unwanted”, AT her. By literally all accounts she’s an outcast.
And you you what I fucking love about that? She doesn’t resent them. I’m fact, she doesn’t love them any less.
Much like how her being ‘Weird Barbie’ is common knowledge to the Barbies, It’s also common knowledge that when you’re malfunctioning or having trouble you go to Weird Barbie for help. They almost expect to receive it, which suggests she’s never actually turned anyone down from asking.
Then we see her interact with our Barbie, with Stereotypical Barbie and she’s no less loving. Margot arrives and she immediately welcomes her in, she listens to her problem. She’s kind and loving, uses affectionate terms (sidenote, she’s rekindled my love for the term BabyGirl), as well as actively using her knowledge and experience to help Margot full force. Also offers her the illusion of choice just to make the decision easier on Margot, more than once, to make the experience easier.
Even when Barbie screams in her face at the idea that they’d ever be the same or similar, she doesn’t get angry or defensive. She just frowns at the reality of others thoughts about her, but even takes the brunt of the blame from Margot “nah, I set myself up for that one”. Furthermore when they part, she tenderly holds Margot’s chin, wishing her luck, telling her “I Love You”.
She was worried, loved and believed in Barbie.
Then the Patriarchy happens and she doubles down. She goes full pink jumpsuit lesbian guerrilla warrior, she picks up Margot during her existential crisis and houses her, tries to help her, even if she couldn’t find an answer herself. Then America Ferrera, Sasha and Allen arrive and HOLY SHIT WE LEARN SO MUCH!
- She welcomes them in too, just as happy and without a hint of resentment or worry!
- She’s HOUSING THE DISCONTINUED TOYS! Sugar Daddy Ken! Magic Earring Ken! Skipper! Barbie Video Girl! Everyone else who’s been truly outcasted and practically exiled from Barbieland she jumped at the chance to house and protect!
- Even Nobel Prize winning Barbie she grabbed and tried everything she could to help her! To help all of them! The second the Patriarchy arrived she wasted no time to try and deprogram the Barbies and protect them from literal hell!
AND SHE DID! WITHOUT ANY EXPECTATION OF THANKS, OR APPRECIATION! She did so with the sole explicit hope of protecting a community of women she loved, irregardless of wether or not they loved her.
Ultimately she did get some of the desperately deserved attention she more than had earned, but she would’ve done it regardless. It leaves us with the character of a woman, who’s been hurt by extenuating circumstances way beyond her control (she was being played with), and who much like in real life, was excommunicated for the scars that said situation left. The movie doesn’t treat “being played with too hard” as trauma, but the parallel is there.
A woman who was hurt and scarred by her life experiences, which made her something different than what her society expected or accepted of her. She’s someone who’s learnt hard truths; Cellulite, nudity, pain, the patriarchy, etc. she is the wisest of them all in that sense, and who knows how much of that came from the trauma, or how much of that she learnt just to be able to help her community. Who knows how much she made her house, collected her knowledge, and built her maps and resources just to help other Barbies that might go through something similar, help them handle it better than she could.
I’m trying to verbalise it and it frustrates me that I can’t do it in a way that doesn’t feel circular but holy fudge nuggets is that both cool and heavy.
And while I can’t pretend I’ve suffered much, or been as blatantly and brutally treated as her, I do relate on some level. I’m in my early 20s (not gonna give specific age cause online) and I’ve always felt and been an outcast. Gay progressive atheist from a Christocatholic conservative Latin American country to start. Starting to build a life in my birth city and then moved at age 4. Everyone else’s families knew each other better, or longer.
Bullied ages 5 to 11. At the time it really didn’t register, and to some extent I still don’t let harassment get to me, but in reflection it was. Fuck I had to be sent on errands for the teacher once just so my entire class could get a talk on bullying and harassment and to not to. Guess who was the elephant in the room but not in the room. 7/8 year olds spill secrets easy. Then we moved again, 14k kilometres away.
Now it was a new continent, a new language. I spent 6 months in one school before moving to the next one, then another year and a half before changing programs from an English intensive program to just basic High School. Then Uni. And to add to all of that, while undiagnosed because it’s expensive, the odds I’m neurodivergent are a coin’s toss or better. And at every stage it’s felt like I’m just watching other people have friendships, through an invisible wall, trying hard to connect to them but somehow never managing.
I was the type of kid and am the type of person that’s very much touch starved, yet fucking terrified of initiating contact because if I do and it’s rejected, then It becomes clear I’m unwanted. So not doing so and keeping the mystery keeps up the hope. The type of person who sees and saw a birthday invitation as a gift in it of itself, specially if not everyone in the class was invited because then maybe I wasn’t a pity invite. Maybe then I was invited because I’m wanted, not because everyone’s invited and it would be rude to exclude me.
Yet who also is terrified of throwing a birthday party and hasn’t had one since I was 11 for a myriad of reasons: Maybe someone I thought was a friend isnt and they make it known then. Or maybe other people see the weirdo I am and leave. Or maybe because my family’s never exactly been well off, but most others were. And so I’d see other kid’s birthdays with balloons, custom cakes, party favours up the walls, games, etc. and yet who’s last birthday party consisted of a soccer ball, a grocery store cake, and bootleg video games (Latin America). And who now sees people my age throw parties in private hotel event rooms, with party buses, bar tabs in the 4 digits, tailor made cakes and special outfits for the day, while that alone would destroy my family financially. Doesn’t help that I managed to get into a Uni course packed with the loaded rich kids.
So there’s so much shame to everything, to being different, to being less, where there really shouldn’t be. So much fear of being seen, yet a desperate want to be held. And so much guilt to even make these feelings known to the people I care about because my emotional problems shouldn’t become theirs. My parents did and do that with me, but that’s a whole different rant. To the point I’m writing and posting this almost with the goal of screaming into the void where nobody can hear it, but with the hope maybe someone does.
And on the same note that I kind of relate to weird Barbie I also admire her. I admire her strength upon adversity, I admire her unconditional love to the other Barbies, and I admire how hard she tries to help everyone else. Another aspect I’m right now paralleling with my degree, hoping that maybe since I understand some of this pain, I can meet others with similar experiences and tell them all the things I wish someone told me. To give them all the things that I’m trying to give myself. That maybe if I am broken, I can make sure they’re not.
This post doesn’t really have a conclusion, just that Weird Barbie is fucking amazing and we all both need a Weird Barbie in our lives, but also remember that Weird Barbie has feelings too, and she deserves to be heard, deserves to be loved too.
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Happy 15th “Very First Mention Of Valice” Anniversary!
Though, admittedly, it does feel weird to celebrate this anniversary, given that “very first mention of Valice” was me berating myself for even HAVING shipping thoughts about Victor and Alice. XD Yeah, what happened basically was this --
-->I was playing in a LIveJournal RP game at the time, Beyond The Rift, with a version of Doc Brown mixed with Changeling: The Lost (poor guy had ended up as a steampunk cyborg while stuck in Faerie, then escaped into an alternate universe Chicago with angels and demons and various other ridiculous shenanigans -- he at least got the ability to control his personal weather out of it?). I was having fun, and thinking about other characters that I would like to play with if given the chance -- most notably, Victor and Alice.
-->That same day, I ended up on TV Tropes, and in my travels, ended up in the Shipping Tropes section. I don’t remember if I ended up on the Crossover Shipping page precisely, but I was definitely in that general vicinity.
-->And -- well, I was already thinking about how Victor and Alice shared a love of drawing, and how they were from the same time period, so if they DID both end up in that Chicago, they’d be able to commiserate with each other and suchlike. . .
-->And thus, cue me thinking about shipping them. And then cue me going “WTF??” at my own brain, because I was absolutely convinced at the time that they’d make a horrible couple, and that my (supposedly-joking) desire to ship Victor with both Victoria AND Emily was weird enough.
. . .we see how all THAT turned out! I wonder what 2008 Vicky would think if she could look forward and see me now -- having written freaking novels’ worth of Valice fan fiction, having embraced not only shipping Victor with Victoria and Emily at the same time, but throwing Alice into the mix too, and currently being obsessed with the OT3 of Victor, Alice, and a roller coaster. XD Hopefully she’d see how happy I am with all this nonsense and be glad that she didn’t talk herself out of it. (Even if it took me until December of that year, after I’d made Victor and Alice RP journals, to let Alice call Victor her boyfriend. But we’ll get to that later.)
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