The Genesis of the Barbie Project

Do you remember the year Barbie hit the stores? My friends and I all longed for one. When I look at her now with her impossible shape and operatic make-up, I wonder what possessed us. But at the time it was almost a physical need.
I memorized the catalogue number in the Sears Catalogue and every time the Sears delivery man arrived I would beat my mother to the door, desperately scanning the outside of the bag to see if the right numbers were there.
On Christmas morning, I anxiously surveyed the gifts under the tree. I knew the exact shape of a Barbie box but could find nothing quite that size.
We opened our gifts and I was delighted to receive a deck of cards, a pair of mittens, a puzzle and a book. But no rectangular box.
There was one more gift for me and I was in despair. It was miraculously, unbelievably, a shoe box containing a Barbie and a Midge! (Midge was Barbie’s best friend and I had never imagined that I could get both dolls.)
We tidied the mess of paper, boxes and ribbon and my brothers were sent to get dressed. My mother pulled a carton from behind the sofa and offered it to me. Inside was the most amazing gift in the universe. It was a wardrobe for Barbie.
Piled high were clear plastic bags each containing a complete outfit. There were skating dresses and skates for Barbie, a ski suit with boots and skis; tennis clothes with sneakers and a racket.
I found pyjamas and robes, pants and blouses; suits with a brief case, summer dresses with sandals, and a rainbow of evening gowns, capes and full-length coats. The piece de resistance was a satin wedding gown with a long beaded train, lace bodice and matching floor-length veil. It even had a little silk flower bouquet.
I gently lifted each set out of the box, stopping longer and longer to stare at the fabulous clothes. They all had tiny buttons or snaps and a pair of earrings and shoes to match. But where had it all come from? My mother explained that she had made them herself on her new sewing machine. She didn’t know how to sew and thought Barbie clothes would be a good place to learn. Apparently she had stayed up late night after night wrestling with patterns and thread. Her friends had given her fabric scraps and bits of trim. A five and dime store had sold the shoes and accessories Barbie needed. I could not then, and I cannot now, express the deep sense of gratitude I felt when she told me how she had managed to create the best Christmas gift ever.
I have my mother’s Barbie doll patterns now. I use them to make Barbie doll clothes for other children but I have never been able to recreate the present I received.