Guys and Dolls

I've previously confessed my affinity for playing with dolls when I was little. My older sister was my only playmate from the age of 0 to about 9, so frequently I was at her mercy when it came to playtime. If it wasn't house, it was Barbies. So it was natural that I would want a Barbie of my own. My mom, if only to stop me from breaking my sister's Barbies, did eventually break down and buy me a Dawn doll (I'm sure nothing was said to my father), a knockoff, smaller version of Barbie who my sister and I would use as Barbie's sister. I did have a Ken doll as well as a 12-inch GI Joe (with kung fu grip) I would integrate into our storylines (Barbie always fell for Joe over Ken).

Anyway, these days, if I'm buying a Barbie at a sale, I assure you it's for a quick flip on eBay. Still, it does raise eyebrows in my household when I'm caught raising Barbie's skirt to look at her butt (I swear, that's where the copyright information is printed). Even with the copyright information, it's always a challenge to pin down a year and model and can become quite an investigation.

First off, let me dispel a myth. Barbies really aren't worth that much. Unless you've found an original 1959 Barbie in pristine condition with the entire outfit and accessories, you're not looking at a whole lot of money. The majority of Barbies, even 1960's and '70's versions are worth $20 or less, particularly less if they're nude.

But when I found this lot of Barbies at a sale last week priced at $1 each, I figured I couldn't lose. 

Country Camping with Barbie and Friends

When I was young, the only vacations my family ever took involved camping. We never stayed in a motel or even a cabin. My sister and I (and occasionally my next-oldest brother) would pile into the '70 Impala and we'd be off dragging the Apache Pop-up camper behind us. Upon arriving at a campground, my dad would sequentially throw us kids out of the car to guard a site while he drove on to see if there wasn't something just a bit better. Utilizing my mom, he could "reserve" up to 4 sites while he decided. Upon deciding, the call would go out and all other outposts would convene on the chosen site whereupon my father would swear the camper into submission.

As crazy and as simple as that sounds, those were days we looked forward to all year round.

So when Christmas of 1972 arrived and along with it my sister's Barbie Country Camper, I was probably as excited as her. Finally, my G.I. Joe (with the Kung Fu grip) had a recreational vehicle to...well, to *recreate* in! Sure, it was no man van, but if it meant he could go camping, Barbie's psychedelic, flower-power wussy wagon would have to do. So, when my sister wasn't around, Joe was off on an adventure, arm resting on the window, eyes fixed on the horizon.

Last week, that all flashed back to me when I found one in very nice condition at a garage sale off of Becker Road in South St. Louis County. My first thought was of course my sister, but I was pretty sure she still had hers (she does, I later found out) and of course secondly eBay. It was $5 so I felt pretty comfortable I'd get my investment back. As it turns out, maybe not. That's about what they're worth. Who'd have thought.

So here I am stuck with Barbie's Country Camper. But there could be worse things. The kids enjoy playing with it and maybe when they're not looking, Joe just might head out on the road again, adventure just beyond the horizon.