Raven's Story: Second Installment (Silken Flame Barbie reproduction, brunette)

(I'm going to continue my story where I left off the other day. I've reread the first 'installment' to put me in the proper frame of mind. If you have not read the previous post, please do so to avoid confusion. Thank you.)

Not knowing what else to do I waited to learn my fate...and waited...and waited. At the time I was sharing a box with Tish, a Nite Lightning Stacey reproduction that Treesa had received as a Christmas present one year.

Tish

 

It'd been a while since Treesa had even opened the box. In fact, the only reason I'd known about Sable at all was because Treesa had wanted to compare us side by side. Afterwards I'd been put back in the box with Tish, and the two of us had been there ever since.

I lost track of time inside the box, and I wondered if Treesa had forgotten all about me. Then one day someone knocked on the box lid. "Anybody in there?" a voice called. I could tell that the knock and the voice weren't loud enough to have come from a human. Tish must've realized this also because she answered the voice, letting whoever it was know that we were there.

"Push up on the lid," the voice said. "I'll work it from this side." Tish shoved at the lid with all her strength. I helped as much as I could, for Tish's sake. It was clear that Tish desperately wanted to get out of that box but during our confinement I'd fallen into a depressed state of mind, so much so that I had difficulty building enthusiasm for anything.

Finally the inside of our prison was flooded with sunlight as the lid rose off the box and was shoved aside. Standing just outside the box was a doll I'd never met before named Halle. She'd been checking to see if 'anyone was home' because Treesa had begun communicating with her dolls, and Halle was trying to spread this information to every doll in the collection. I thanked Halle politely, but told her that I didn't expect to be there much longer, now that Treesa had Sable. I was so depressed that I couldn't even summon the energy to leave the box, now that Tish and I were freed. Halle tried to coax me out, but she eventually gave up. Still Halle didn't forget about me. If what I heard after the fact was true, she gave Treesa an earful when she saw her next.

All I know for sure is that Treesa came to see me soon afterwards. "I'm so sorry, Raven," she apologized. "I had no idea you were so worried! I want you to know you've got nothing to worry about. I remember how long it took me to find a doll like you that I could afford and I'm not getting rid of you."

I didn't say anything. Treesa's explanation for why she was keeping me sounded a little hollow to my ears. It sounded as though she was keeping me because she felt obligated, rather than because I appealed to her as a collector's item. And despite Halle's reassurances that Treesa knew we were alive I didn't yet feel comfortable talking to a human.

When I didn't respond Treesa said, "It must be really stuffy in that box. I think you need some fresh air. It worked wonders for Tish." With that Treesa picked me up and brought me over to the window, leaving me sitting on the window sill. As I stared out the window, which looked out over Treesa's small backyard, I couldn't help but notice how blue the sky was. It reminded me of that day at the flea market, of lying in a cardboard box with the rest of the dolls in my first and second owners' collections and staring up at the sky. Some of the other dolls had been nervous and worried over what lay ahead, but I hadn't been at all concerned about my future. I'd felt certain that, as a reproduction doll, I was sure to attract only the best customers.

Now though I realized just how precarious my situation had been. My first owner had always been careful with me, because she'd been told to be. Her sister, my second owner, was basically the same. But I knew from observing my previous owners' friends that not all children were that careful. I could very easily have been bought by a careless child, the kind of child who would accidentally damage her dolls by treating them too roughly.

Just then I heard the sounds of cheerful laughter coming from somewhere nearby. I turned my head and saw Tish, chatting with a soldier action figure I'd never seen before. At the time I was amazed that Tish had managed to make a new friend so quickly. But then, Tish has always been outgoing. When Treesa first put me in Tish's box, Tish had immediately tried to engage me in conversation. But she'd quickly realized that we had few shared interests. I realize now that my superiority complex must've made me a rather boring conversationalist.

In any case, Tish had been speaking to me less frequently as time passed. When she had spoken, she'd sounded as though she was talking more to herself than to me. At the time I'd thought that something was going wrong inside her head, and that she was slowly losing her mind. I'd heard that being in an enclosed space for an extended period of time could do that to a doll. Of course, I'd thought I was immune to such things. I'd also been convinced that responding to Tish's random statements would only fuel her madness. So I'd stopped speaking to her, thinking I was doing her a favor. Then I'd learned about Sable, and my own mental state had quickly deteriorated.

As I came closer to where Tish was standing and overheard her talking to her new action figure friend, whose name I later found out was Joe, I learned just how much my lack of response had affected Tish. She basically said how relieved she was to be speaking to someone again. She mentioned how, when she'd first met me, she'd wished she didn't have to listen to me drone on about the higher standards of reproduction dolls. Then, when I'd stopped answering her, she'd wished that I would say something, anything, just so she could hear a voice besides her own.

I quietly left before I could hear anymore. It was a shock discovering what Tish really thought of me and my actions. After what I'd just learned my decision to stop speaking to Tish seemed cruel. Soon I began thinking of the other dolls I knew. I wondered if they all saw me the way Tish did. Had I harmed others with my narrow mindset, the way I'd harmed Tish?

I thought of Vesper Holly, and how she'd reacted to being separated from her family. Had I been insensitive by not offering her emotional support? Granted I've always been rather stoic by nature, and I had expected the same from those around me. The quickest way for a doll to lose my respect was with any kind of excessive 'emotional display'. It didn't matter to me what the emotion was. In my mind an excessive outpouring of joy was as much a sign of weakness as giving way to tears. I believed that a doll of good character must appear composed at all times. But then, keeping up appearances comes at a price. In my case, the price was severe depression that resulted from an inability to address my feelings of fear and rejection. I wondered if Vesper Holly had ended up in a similar state because of my behavior, or if another doll had managed to reach out to her the way I couldn't.

Then I thought of Dandelion. Her first owner had been my second owner, so she'd known me longer than any of Treesa's other dolls. When I'd first met Dandelion, I'd thought her lively personality was undignified, and had told her so. As I mentioned before, I myself had always tried to remain composed in any situation, at least outwardly. At the Time I'd thought that bringing what I'd seen as a character flaw to Dandelion's attention would help her improve herself. But Dandelion hadn't seen it that way, and she hadn't hesitated to tell me exactly what she'd thought of me. I was afraid to even imagine what she thought of me now that she'd had years to dwell on the subject.

I think that's when I really started to change. Before that moment I wouldn't have cared about the opinions of a 'common' playline doll like Dandelion. When she'd 'overreactred' to my 'helpful' critique all that time ago I certainly hadn't been prompted to reevaluate my position. I'd simply believed that she was being overly sensitive, and that she would come around once she realized I was right. But now I was seriously considering the possibility that my personal worldview may have negatively affected those around me, and a suspicion had been planted in my mind that perhaps my way of thinking was flawed.

(I'm going to have to pause my story again.  Treesa was supposed to take some additional photos for me, but apparently she never did.  She said it's been too overcast and that there hasn't been enough sunlight to take photos. I apologize for the interruption, and will post the rest as soon as I can.

Quote The Raven)

Raven's Story (Silken Flame Barbie reproduction, brunette)

The fear of being replaced is something that is unique to dolls. Humans don't really understand it. Treesa read those two sentences over my shoulder and said that that's not entirely true. The friend she gave Wedding Bells and Wedward to was replaced when her job was outsourced overseas. Treesa's friend has a new job now, but she went through some difficult times to get there. Treesa also said that there are plenty of stories in popular culture about men who replace their wives with younger, prettier women when they're going through a midlife crisis. She said there's even a term for the younger women - trophy wives.

I still believe that the fear of being replaced is more common in dolls than in humans, because dolls lives are mostly controlled by their owners. Humans have more opportunities to choose their own fate and make their own decisions. Now Treesa's saying that that's not entirely accurate either. She says that sadly for some humans it's almost impossible to change their circumstances, mostly due to lack of money or social status.

I managed to get Treesa out of the room by telling her that if she wants me to get anything posted, she needs to stop interrupting me. Only now I think I've lost my train of thought. I know where I want to go, but I forget what route I was going to take to get there. I suppose I'll have to go back to the beginning and start over.

My story started the way every other mass produced doll's story has started, in a factory. I'm the type of doll that's commonly known as a 'reproduction'. Sometimes the abbreviation 'repro' is used, mostly in online auction listings. What these terms mean is that I was designed to look like a doll that was manufactured in the past, and that I was mostly marketed to adult collectors. Although in my case, I was also marketed to adults who wanted that special little girl in their family to have a doll like the one they played with as children.

My first owner was one of these little girls. I was purchased for her as a gift when she was just an infant, so in the beginning I was kept in my box on a shelf. Eventually the day came when my first owner's parents decided she was 'responsible' enough to handle me. On that day I was taken out of my box and placed in my first owner's hands. She was very proud of the fact that her parents thought she was mature enough to be trusted with me. Then she added me to her assortment of playline dolls. When she became 'too old for dolls' we were passed down to her younger sister, our second owner. And when our second owner outgrew us we were all put in a cardboard box, along with a few other dolls that had only ever belonged to our second owner, and were then put in storage. After a few years in storage we were taken to a flea market.

If you've read Dandelion's first post, then you know what happened after that. Treesa and her sister were at the flea market. Treesa's sister saw the box first and brought Treesa over. Treesa pulled me out of the box, looked over the other dolls inside, and asked for a price. After she was told we were fifty cents each Treesa picked up a few other dolls along with me, including Dandelion.

When Dandelion said in her post that I was 'an attention getter' I think she was referring to the number of comments I attracted from the adults in my first, and second, owners' lives. Any relative or family friend who was old enough to recognize my vintage style head mold would, when they saw me, share stories of the dolls they had owned as children. Even younger adults who weren't familiar with Barbie history could see that I didn't look like the other dolls in the collection and would ask about me.

I'm sorry to say that all this attention went to my head. I began to think that being a reproduction doll made me better than the more 'common' playline dolls in my first and second owners' collections. The reality of course is that every doll is unique and special in her, or his own way. After all, every vintage doll that is now considered a collector's item started out as a playline doll.

My high opinion of myself remained even after Treesa bought me. In fact, it had been bolstered by the knowledge that Treesa had chosen me out of the box first. Though she hadn't said so out loud, it was clear to me that if we dolls had been more expensive then Treesa would've bought only me. And Treesa's then current practice of separating her reproduction dolls from her playline dolls also supported my inflated sense of importance.

Treesa's other reproduction dolls tolerated my ego. Francie (a 30th Anniversary Francie reproduction) has always been shy, so she never contradicted anything I said about the superiority of being a reproduction doll.

Francie

And Vesper Holly (a Cool Collecting Barbie made with the vintage style head mold) was still disappointed over Treesa's decision to separate her reproduction dolls from her then small collection of vintage dolls.

Vesper Holly

Vesper had been good friends with an older Mod era doll named Summer Sand, and had been helping look after Summer's baby boy KC. The three of them, Vesper and Summer and KC, had become a family of sorts. Vesper thought of Summer like a sister, and KC like a nephew. After Treesa separated them, Vesper missed her surrogate family terribly.

Summer Sand and KC

I'm sorry to say that I did little to comfort Vesper during this time. I don't think I truly understood her feelings, having never really had a doll family of my own.

For years I stubbornly held on to my own narrow view of the world. Then Treesa bought Sable at the thrift store.

Sable

Sable was what I could only pretend to be, a vintage brunette 'bubblecut' Barbie. That's when the fear of being replaced hit me in force. Over the years Treesa had acquired a number of second-hand reproduction dolls, but many of them had later been let go. Two of them had been given away to Treesa's mother. One had been given to the mother of the friend that Treesa later gave Wedding Bells and Wedward to. And then there was the blond 35th Anniversary Barbie that had been handed over to Treesa's sister to sell at a family yard sale.

For the first time in my life, any feelings I'd had of being special deserted me. I was worried, and frightened, about my future. Worse than that, I felt that there was no one I could really talk to about my insecurities. I realized that my non-inclusive attitude had effectively isolated me from everyone. Even among 'my own kind', as I'd then thought of the other reproduction dolls, I hadn't formed any close friendships. It was as if I'd thought my status meant that I was above needing friends. The reality of course is that everyone needs friends in their lives, someone to share the good times and offer support in bad times.

Treesa just poked her head around the door frame and asked if she can check her emails, so I'm going to have to finish my story later. I apologize for any inconvenience this causes.

Quote The Raven

(This sign off was Treesa's idea.)