It's kind of ironic that I spent so much of my youth trying to be "grown up," yet as an adult, I find myself constantly indulging my inner child. Childhood is often painted as the most innocent care free time in our lives, when our biggest concerns revolve around petty schoolyard drama and our toys. In a lot of ways, I can't relate to that feeling. As far back as I remember, I struggled with being painfully self aware and majorly insecure. Yes, even in preschool, I have faint memories of feeling like I didn't belong, and of not relating to the cheerful spirits of my peers. I also was forced to grow up fast, due to life circumstances that were nobody's fault, like my mom's cancer diagnosis and all the family dysfunction that ensued after her passing. By the time I was eleven, I felt like my true childhood was well behind me. So I don't exactly share the sentiment as many other adults do, viewing my youth with rose tinted glasses. In fact, you couldn't pay me to get into a time machine and relive those days (maybe I'd go back for an afternoon, but no more than that). For me, dolls helped me cling to the remnants of a broken, lost childhood...even when I was technically still a kid. I suppose that ultimately still resonates with me when it comes to the dolly collecting hobby.
After my mom died in 2002, my whole world was turned upside down. It was hardest on my dad by far, and I saw the changes in him immediately. I know that he tried his best, but there were many times he failed me and my sister. He often forgot just how young I was, entrusting me with responsibilities that were his (like having me hold onto all his important paperwork). The older I grew, the more and more burdens were placed on my shoulders. I tried my best to take it in stride, but deep down I mourned the innocence of youth that I so jealously watched other kids enjoy. The only moments from that time I remember feeling like a kid, like the parent/child balance had been restored, always centered around dolls. I recall how Dad's warm brown eyes would soften as he walked into the toy aisle and saw me ogling a doll. That one instance in Target, when I was thirteen and the 2005 Bratz Collector's Edition pack had been issued, stands out the most to me. Colleen was at home, toiling over a school project, so it was just me and Dad that evening. When I saw the Bratz set in the doll aisles, I fell in love right away. Dad was always generous when it came to opening his wallet, but that was especially true with Bratz. Despite the cost of the four pack, he didn't hesitate to ask me if I wanted it, when he returned to the aisle after getting what he needed. In that fleeting moment in time, he was my old dad and I was just a kid without a care in the world. There were countless occasions that mirror the same sentiment, many that involve Bratz specifically.
After a five year break from dolls, Dad and I were quick to reestablish that same bond. He would come home from visiting friends, often with a doll in tow. There was that time he found me miniature Disney books at a yard sale, that he thought would be perfect for my displays. I was nineteen by then, dealing with his cancer diagnosis and the crushing financial crisis that came along with it. The word carefree wasn't even in my vocabulary then. But those small gestures Dad made for my collection, or even the larger ones like spending Christmas Eve 2011 hunting for Party Cloe, reignited my inner child. After he passed away in 2012, I admit that my dolly innocence was tainted. I dabbled in the online collecting community. The negative voices of others, paired with my desire to fit in, changed how I viewed my dolls. Additionally, I let the stress and sadness of losing my dad rot me from the inside out. What should have been my form of escape, became another weight for me to carry. Luckily, I have always been self reflective (even to my own detriment in many cases). So it didn't take long for me to figure out my mistakes, and to correct the situation. Since 2014, I have fully embraced a positive, carefree attitude towards collecting.
And so here I am in 2023, still finding myself as a 32 year old woman, trying to nurture her inner child. Connecting with younger me has been a form of therapy all on its own. In some weird way, it makes up for all the time that was lost/stolen. I don't care how weird that may seem to other people, perhaps other collectors even. I still talk to my dolls--venting to them about my day. And when I need an extra pick me up? Cradling my beloved Baby Otis is a surefire way to feel better. My sister and I have even found ways to reconnect with doll play...the traditional way. Some of our childhood characters have returned for videos, but there are new personalities too (who we've grown to love just the same). I often find myself questioning whether "12 year old Shelly" would be proud. I think she would be. First of all, younger me would approve of my vast American Girl collection, and how the dolls still look cozy around my room. I think she would have enjoyed the videos I make now, and the photos/posts we make on Flickr. In fact, I KNOW 12 year old me would be ecstatic to see my social media, because I spent an awful lot of time perusing Katti's Dolls website back then. Funnily enough, somehow my younger self predicted that I would grow up to be a collector. I was careful not to throw out damaged dolls, or do quick fixes...sensing that one day in the future I would have the knowledge and skills to do it right. When my most cherished doll, Josefina, got a tatty, frizzy wig, I refused to trim off the damaged portions. I told myself that one day I would find a technique to fix it. The same happened with Alison, Cool Times Barbie, who unfortunately was given a pixie cut at Shelly's Salon. I started hoarding shed Barbie hair from my doll brushes, somehow knowing that I would find a way to implant it back into her head. Sure enough, one of my first orders of business as an adult collector was honing the re-rooting technique for Miss Alison (although I bought new hair for her). Regardless of the years that have gone and the new experiences that have shaped me, I still very much feel connect to younger me. Whenever I see a new doll series or collection, I can always pinpoint which ones would have spoken to my kid self. Those dolls in particular tend to mean even more to me. And of course, there are those childhood fantasies we all have, that get fulfilled when we become adult collectors. This photo was inspired by one of those dreams--Colleen and I used to ogle the American Girl spreads, creating stories based on the outfits, accessories, and dolls we admired. I never take it for granted when I can make a childhood desire into a reality. I have come to see that my dolls, in their own way, are like the warm hug my inner child needs, and that's why I cherish each and every one.
Written by my sister:
It was the beginning of 1997 and Mom presented me with my first ever American Girl catalog. I'm assuming it was the one my parents received when they purchased my first American Girl, Molly, for Christmas 1996. My tenth birthday was coming up and Mom was probably trying to get ideas. I loved that catalog--cover to cover, not just the Molly pages (although those were my favorite, obviously). I remember feeling really confused by the section at the back labeled "Girl of Today." I thought, at first, maybe it was a section to purchase modern clothes for your favorite historical character to wear if you felt like it--some of the girls at the back bore a strong resemblance to Molly, Addy, Kirsten, and Samantha. But others were distinctly different. I remember loving the birthday party page with the grill and the dolly hamburgers. Apart from Molly's spread, it was probably my favorite page. About a year later, I remember a new outfit being added, making the page all that more exciting--the "Lawn Party Outfit" or "Birthday Outfit." I could've cared less about the croquet set it was marketed with. I loved the adorable purple jumper bedecked in fruit! Over the course of the next year, our collection expanded--Addy became Molly's first like-sized companion when Shelly picked her for her birthday in August 1997, followed by Samantha the next August, and I chose Josefina for a good report card present a few months after that. Two years after I'd gotten Molly, we finished the then-historical collection with Felicity and Kirsten. But Shelly, of course, wanted to get another doll. We started to seriously contemplate the Girl of Today dolls. I'd fantasized, but not thinking it would ever really come to fruition, of the doll modeling the Lawn Party fashion, all year. But then Shelly and I each picked a favorite doll--she picked the blonde who was advertised the most and I, naturally, chose the girl modeling the Lawn Party outfit--to make up a story about that we'd talk about every day. We talked about where the girls--who we dubbed Angela and Valerie--were going, what they were doing, and, most importantly, what they'd be wearing. We discussed getting the "sisters" for Christmas 1999 and opening them together like we did Felicity and Kirsten in 1998. But I chickened out. Honestly, I cared more about the Lawn Party outfit than the doll, wasn't even really sure what number she was to order (the pictures were all very grainy, square, and small on the page that showed all the choices), and wasn't really sure I wanted to actually get "Valerie." But, less than two months later, I decided to get Valerie for my birthday. If you've read my personal fun fact on Molly McIntire, you've heard about this pivotal moment in my life as a doll collector before. Valerie did not live up to my rose colored dreams--probably because she wasn't modeling the ever-important Lawn Party jumper. (I think you could put that jumper on anybody and it would still be the best thing ever.) I felt remorseful. I suddenly wished I'd stuck to just Molly. Kirsten and Josefina never disappointed me the way Valerie did, but I didn't connect with them the way I did with Molly either. I took Molly into bed with me, and sang Shania Twain's "You're Still the One" to her. (Dramatic? Yes.) From that point on, it became just me and Molly and, when I moved to the pink room downstairs the following September, I hid all three of the other AG dolls behind my bureau mirror (over the course of the next couple years, Shelly would pull them out and adopt them one at a time). In Christmas 2004, Molly was...falling apart quite literally. So, Dad bought me another Molly. Although my second Molly didn't feel like family at first the way my old one did, she was a new, shiny Molly who actually fit Molly's 1944 Swimsuit (old Molly's bum was too distorted at the time). So we grew to be close friends by the end of high school (I got her for Christmas my junior year). This was followed by two more Molly's, then Emily--who, let's face it, is an extension of Molly. Was it technically still "just me and Molly?" No, by the end of 2015, I had five American Girls--which is more than I had in 2000 when Valerie was my fourth--but they were all still part of Molly's world. In 2014, when the historical line was revamped for BeForever, I began to fall in love with, gasp, someone not connected to Molly! Rebecca Rubin. That purple outfit really made her stick out in the line up. (I'm thinking the theme here is I like dolls wearing purple?) However, I'd always liked the idea of Rebecca--perhaps not as strongly as we liked the idea of Melody Ellison and Kavi Sharma prior to their releases, but I liked the idea of Rebecca. She reminded me of a paper doll from an American Girl magazine. Her name was Liana Katz. Liana had a Jewish heritage and her wardrobe encompassed a modern outfit and several outfits reflecting what her ancestors wore. I swear, her pink dress with the white boots with black buttons would NOT look out of place in Rebecca's collection! But Rebecca was a three-D model and all her clothes were all from around the time period of my favorite Liana fashion. Of course, I always liked her! But I was afraid to get her--afraid that I'd feel just as let down, that she wouldn't live up to my fantasy (of course, brand new Rebecca dolls were being sold in the fashion I first fell in love with her wearing...so at least that was a start). I waited FIVE years (and got another Molly). But Rebecca, unlike Valerie (who still lives with my sister) did NOT disappoint me. No, my only regret? That I'd waited so long and didn't get to enjoy her for those five years that she was just a fantasy! (Valerie was more fun as a fantasy than the real doll I guess.) I realized, in my 30s, that I could very much enjoy another doll besides Molly, and not just "it's my sister's doll and I love to dress her", but to call her my own. (I tried to get Shelly to buy Rebecca for herself so I could play with her at one point.) So, a year later, when a grainy stock image of Courtney Moore caught my eye, I only wasted five minutes telling Shelly that SHE should get the doll so that I could play with her and decided I absolutely had to have her. Me and Courtney...our bond isn't like my bond with Molly exactly (though the fixation is pretty close). It's more like Shelly's bond with Corinne Tan--a grainy stock image led to instantaneous desire, the actual doll did NOT disappoint, and she's been an obsession ever since!
I think, after that, I realized just how much my younger self (both our younger selves actually--I vividly recall 2004, when Shelly came, sobbing, into my room late at night to tell me she wished she'd asked Dad for Kit instead of Samantha) WAY overthought dolls. In my years as an adult collector, even when the only dolls living in my room were the three Mollys (the third joined my collection shortly after we got back into dolls in 2011), I got so much joy dressing ALL Shelly's dolls, including the three that used to live in my room. They all felt like family. I remember how much we both worried when we sent our beloved Kirsten away to the doll hospital to have her eyes replaced (heck, it was hard with our Felicity named Emerald in 2021 and we'd only known her for a week when we sent her off). What I love the MOST about how we collect all dolls in general, but especially American Girls now? Back in the 90s and early 2000s, a new American Girl could not be purchased except by having Dad dial a number and place an order (we didn't have internet access at home back then). She could not be found at select retailers, an American Girl doll (even not an 18 inch doll but a Bitty Baby or another one of their fine products) could only arrive by UPS and it was a HUGE occasion. We would often take old dolls (favorites like Molly and Addy) and have them join us in opening a new friend or opening a new outfit or accessory set. We would take new members of the dolly family around the home to see things and, most importantly, introduce her to all the other American Girls in our home. Nowadays, things are a lot more mass-produced. We bought Isabelle on a very cold weekend at the AG Place in our state--something we'd never done before and would never do again (our nearest store closed around 2020). We have found a LOT of American Girls secondhand at flea markets and thrift stores, something that never happened when we were kids. At the end of 2022, a friend of mine gave me THREE of her daughter's old dolls (including the Julie pictured here, who we call Jolene). But, even though access to American Girl is SO much easier for us (largely in part to sites like ebay and, even more so, because now Shelly and I are wholly in charge of the purse strings), we don't treat it like it's a casual, every day occurrence (even though the number of dolls added to our collection in 2022 and 2023 is staggering). We still view it as a special moment, because it is. We still will take our dolls out to open new arrivals with us (Shelly told Rebecca about the 2023 Christmas surprise long before I knew about it) and we always give our new plastic friends a tour and introduction to all the other members of our AG family! Whether it is a doll we spent a very long time looking for and had to make a big effort to track down--like Cecile--or a doll who literally just showed up at our door (due to a few generous people, quite a few actually have!). Whether she (or he, we've got a couple Bitty Twin boys) is old and shabby or new and shiny, a new American Girl is always greeted with the same excitement that Addy was upon arrival over 25 years ago! While looking at one of our newest additions, Joynomi, earlier, it crossed my mind that an American Girl--any American Girl--makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Perhaps it's my deep love for Molly that makes me love them all or maybe just because we both love dolls so much. But either way, I have learned so much from my sister, who was always so much more willing to love more than one doll and so much more willing to accept the new. I have decided to wholeheartedly embrace my love for dolls--both new and old, large and small. For too many years, even as a kid, I worried too much about things being perfect or having a theme to a collection. However, in the last couple of years, I have been able to let go of unnecessary worries and set my inner child free!
