Breast Cancer Barbie

Every single thing that Breast Cancer Barbie wears is pale pink: gloves, gown, spangled stole, lipstick, and the tiny pink ribbon stitched to her left shoulder. The shawl wraps across her shoulders and crosses behind her back, just like the pink ribbon symbol of breast cancer awareness. The box, of course, is pink.

I peek under the four layers of tulle ruffles that wrap the doll from knees to feet, curious to check out her footwear, and discover that she is, in fact, shoeless. (But that’s a diversion—perhaps all Barbie Collector dolls, this one a “Pink Label” Keepsake doll, come without shoes? Or was I gypped?)

A Doll With Boobs
As a woman living with breast cancer (and minus one breast) who is forced to run a gauntlet of pink products every October, my question is this:

What does this beauty queen, fairy princess, DOLL in a pink formal gown say about me and my experience with breast cancer?

And the answer is: Nothing.

Nothing.

• This doll does not offer me hope.
• This doll certainly does not offer a positive image of a strong woman living with cancer.
• And the doll is not even a fund-raising effort that I can support.

Barbie—the doll America loves to hate—has always been more than a bit out of step with the country, while at the same time she has been a bestseller for decades. Oh, the schizophrenia of U.S. culture—gotta love it.

The first Barbie, a teenage fashion model, arrived on the scene in 1959 with a chest that would have toppled her on her face without her wire stand.

A 1998 makeover brought Barbie’s dimensions closer to those of real women, but despite all the “careers” Mattel has dressed Barbie for over the years, little girls, big girls, and collectors buy her for her clothes.

If this doll were to represent me, or the “average” woman with cancer, she would need to be older. I was 43 when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, the average woman is in her 60s. Barbie is 18. Or maybe 22 by now.

In addition, if Barbie were to represent us, she should be bald, and come with an assortment of wigs and headscarves—the fashionistas at Mattel who created the “sparkly tulle stole that evokes the iconic pink ribbon” missed that one.

She should also be missing a breast or two, and come with a prosthesis. There is an obvious tie-in here that Mattel, again, missed: Ruth Handler, who created Barbie and named her after her daughter, had a mastectomy to treat breast cancer in 1970.

According to press reports and a company history, she was unable to find a natural-feeling prosthetic breast and designed her own. In 1975, Handler patented Nearly Me. She died in 2002 at age 85.

Breast Cancer Barbie would also need that essential chemo accessory: a small pink toilet in which to upchuck when nausea strikes. And, of course, wrappings for her arms to prevent lymphedema. These could also be pink, like the gloves.

OK, I’m having too much fun here imagining Barbie with a tiny (pink) bra and tiny detachable boob. Back to the point.

Why Buy This Doll?
Inspiration
Mattel says that the doll is an inspiration. I say, No. Writing words like "Empowerment," "Hope," and "Strength" in flowing script inside the box does not do it. I have breast cancer, so round one to me.

Money for the Cause
Mattel says it will make a $100,000 donation from sales of the doll to Komen.

I am underwhelmed by the company’s generosity. It’s not even their money, and it’s peanuts. My cancer treatment will cost more than $300,000 this year. That’s one woman, for one year. A $100,000 donation will hardly buy the test tubes for a decent clinical trial. Round two to me.

For more on pink marketing, read Gag Me With a Pink Ribbon.

As a Gift for a Child Affected by Breast Cancer
Mattel says, on the back of the Breast Cancer Barbie box, “Barbie doll offers a great opportunity to educate children about the disease and its effects [see above about wigs, toilets, etc.]—and offer support, hope, and comfort. Today many children are touched by breast cancer as the disease may affect someone they know—a parent, grandparent, relative, friend, or teacher. We hope Pink Ribbon Barbie doll can help open a dialogue, while supporting this worthy cause.”

I am not joking here. Do NOT take this marketing hype seriously. Do not buy this doll for a child you know whose mother or grandmother has breast cancer.

Please don’t. There are better gifts: Your time. Your attention. If a young child wants it, maybe a hospital toy set so he or she can play doctor. (But it is sooo obvious to show up at the door with a doctor set when the kid’s mom is in bed. Tread carefully here.)

My two sons were 8 and 13 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, so I know how delicate this subject can be for kids. Read Jeanne’s Diary, Chapter Six: Telling the Kids.

It’s hard to believe Mattel is taking this last point seriously. There is no mention of Breast Cancer Barbie on the Barbie.com Web site, not even on the parents’ page, where you can sign up for a newsletter that includes “parenting tips.”

The message of Barbie has always been “buy stuff.” Don’t fall for it, at least not in October. Meanwhile, my Breast Cancer Barbie doll is joining my can of pink Campbell soup in a shrine to the cluelessness of American companies.

A last note—warm up your funny bone on the whole cause-marketing issue by reading The Onion’s priceless take on the Race for the Cure:
6,000 Runners Fail To Discover Cure For Breast Cancer

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@ Jeanne Sather 2006 All rights reserved.

Comments

[William]

I'm so happy to see Breast Cancer Barbie. I know that beneith the yards of tulle beats the heart of a bald-headed American girl, her hair lost to chemo.

But my question is, where's the bald-headed Ken doll? Ken has always been Barbie's most faithful friend and supporter. I think it's time he went back to his roots and grabbed his razor and shaved his head in solidarity.

[Alex Roberts]

Some residual $$ from these individual schemes (pink soup, pink Barbies, etc.) land with the SGK foundation, ACS, etc., yet Ms Ehrenreich points to a widespread resistance to research into human-made environmental chemical and mutagenic causes. Are there any research groups or foundations you've come across that are changing this--illuminating bio-chemical causal factors?

Amen on Barbie too--she was already hard enough on women's self esteem before going pink. Prosthetic Barbie has a nice ring to it.

[Kerry]

Thank you for educating about this abhorrence.

It never ceases to amaze me the stupidity and tactlessness of marketing execs. What a joke. Mattel should be ashamed.

[darlean]

At Safeway this week, you are asked again and again to donate a dollar to Breast Cancer. I donate to Lung Cancer, not only because my gramma has it, but because it kills more women that Breast Cancer. I was looked upon like a weirdo when I said this in response to the 5th request to donate that week.

Thank you for such a cheeky article!

[sarah]

I just found your blog the other day when I googled "I hate pink" for something I was writing about how everything for girls is pink. I love your snarky sense of humour and the way you cut through b.s. THANK YOU. My partner has chronic pain and writes a blog you might enjoy:
http://www.chronicholiday.blogspot.com

Her take on the clueless things people say to those who are ill. Anyway, thanks for making my day.

[breast cancer]

Thank you for for this info