1968
I hadn't meant to be so absolutely selfish, but things had just turned out so differently in real life than they did in the games that little Janet Crawford would play with her friends. My cousin, Barbie, was the pretty one, after all. While she was tall and shapely, with real eyelashes, titan hair, and a twist n' turn waist, my legs didn't even bend. Barbie was the one that Ken should have fallen for, just the way that Janet always played out.
Why, then, did it not happen that way?
I'll admit, even I peered out of the doll case the day that little Janet had her birthday party and unwrapped the New Talking Good-Lookin' Ken. We had never seen a Ken before, besides the one with blotchy flocked hair that Janet's best friend Mitzi owned, and we had certainly never seen a Ken as good-looking as that one. While Stacey, Midge, Barbie, and Skipper giggled and talked on and on about how handsome he was, I watched in wonder as he was removed from his box. I smiled, remembering that day in 1967 when Janet had pulled me free from my own packaging.
He was introduced to us that night, right before little Janet's eight-thirty curfew. She dressed him in a groovy outfit that had also been gifted to her, put Barbie in a new dress called Fashion Shiner, and sent them out on their first date. When Mrs. Crawford came in to put Janet to bed, all of we dolls were left out on the floor. After the light was turned off and the door was closed, we waited a long time before getting up and having adventures of our own.
The first thing Midge did was close herself in the case to change clothes; the rest of us flocked to Ken. He turned out to be as funny and friendly as he was good-looking. After telling us about his plight from factory to Janet's house (all new dolls told this story as an introduction), he kept us laughing by pulling his cord and showing us all of the funny things he was programmed to say. I think it would be accurate to say that we were all instantly charmed.
"Don't you get tired of saying all of those silly things?" asked my amused cousin.
"I'm designed to say all the words you want to hear!"
A flattered squeal rose up from Midge, Stacey, and Barbie. While they, along with Skipper, took turns pulling his cord, I stood by, shyly watching. This Ken seemed like a funny guy, and I was sure glad that he was going to be part of the gang. One thing I knew for sure was that he was a lot nicer than Mitzi's Ken, and he seemed just as keen as Janet's old Allan doll. Allan had been one of my best friends before he fell off of the window sill at Mitzi's house and never came home. We poor dolls are so fragile.
"Hi, I'm Ken. Let's go to the big game tonight. What are you doing next weekend? Why don't we all go to the movies? Let's go listen to Barbie's records. Let's go visit Barbie."
He said them all as the girls giggled and pulled his cord. He was a good sport about it, smiling in response to their amusing laughter. And as he spoke over and over again, he looked over to me and winked. I quickly looked away, surely blushing pinker than my factory paint.
What a night we had! We spent the whole time talking with Ken, and showing him all of the outfits and accessories that Janet had. Before we knew it, the sun was coming up, and it was time to reclaim the clothing and positions that our owner had placed us in. As the girls hurried to change their clothes, I stood aside, finding my rightful position. Just as I was about to sit, New Talking Good-Lookin' Ken approached me.
"I don't believe I caught your name." He was smiling that same, good-looking molded smile that the designers at Mattel had worked so hard to design and achieve.
I shyly shifted my gaze down to my pink flats, and replied, "I'm Francie Fairchild, Barbie's cousin."
He thrust out his hand. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you!" As I gently shook his hand, he continued. "I noticed that you were standing off to the side. I hope we weren't excluding you."
I shook my hand. "Oh no, not at all. I just don't like big crowds, that's all." I looked up to him. "It must be awful, having that string coming out of your back that makes you say things."
He laughed nicely. "Well, thanks for the concern, but it really isn't so bad. After all, the kids think it's great. Besides, it's the new thing."
"Really?" The thought of having a speaking mechanism crammed inside of my small plastic body and a string hanging out of my back unnerved me.
"Yeah, I knew a Barbie a lot like your cousin there at the factory, but she had a cord and said things. I knew a Stacey there, too, same story."
"Really? I never would have guessed." Would such a Barbie or Stacey someday move into our house, I wondered.
"No Francies, though. They're still as plain and regular as always…"
I nodded, figuring that he must have been calling me plain. I was looking a little bit ragged those days. I hadn't worn a new outfit for a long while, and my hair was slowly beginning to lose its luster.
"… Which is just the way they ought to be. It's refreshing to talk to a girl who isn't a fashion model every now and again." He offered me another smile that half of my mouth returned. "Well, nice meeting you, Francie Fairchild. I hope we'll find the time to talk again."
"Yes, me too, Ken." As he turned to go reclaim his spot on the carpet, I added, "Welcome to the group."
He smiled and replied before flopping down, "Thanks, Francie, I'm really glad to be here."
And from that, I never would have expected things to turn out the way that they did. Ken, with his good looks and funny statements, would be perfect for Barbie. Janet and Mitzi saw that, too. Every time we were played with, Barbie and Ken were always a couple. I can't even count the number of times that I got to be the maid in their house after they got married, or the times I got to be a waitress in a café they dated at. We dolls are stuck at the same age and maturity forever, so it was great knowing that Barbie would have somebody to love for all time.
But it didn't happen that way, and I just felt so guilty that it didn't. That was the way it should have been, any advertisement or little girl would tell you so, but things turned out differently at the Crawford house, and it started with Ken's first day and the first time he talked to me. I won't go into specifics or anything, because I still feel so bad about it, but Ken and I fell in love. I know you're probably wondering how this can be, considering that he was New Talking Good-Lookin' Ken and I'm just a regular old Francie, but really, it happened. And it was awful.
Well, of course I don't mean that it was awful, because really, it was quite wonderful, but it was awful because it was out of line and unwelcomed by the other dolls, especially Barbie. She liked Ken a whole lot, and who can blame her considering that they were basically made for each other, but Ken did not feel the same way. He liked me, and although it was wrong of me, I liked him, too.
During our nighttime excursions, while Barbie, Midge, Stacey, and Skipper tried on clothes and put on fashion shows, Ken and I would stand nearby and talk. He was so funny and charming, he always had me giggling.
"You know, Francie, it's a gas to hang out with somebody who isn't just interested in fashion and modeling all of the time."
"Well… You can't blame them. They are fashion dolls after all." It was our fate to love clothing, accessories, and dressing up. We had to love all fashion, too, because most of the time, what we wore was not up to us. We each had our own tastes, though. Midge liked the older fashions, and I was biased towards mod fashion. Stacey loved miniskirts, and Barbie loved it all.
"I know, but you'd think they could have some other interests as well."
An idea struck me. "We do have a record player, and two records to go with it." The record player had come with one of Midge's favorite Dresses—a pink gingham sundress with an embroidered white linen collar. "Would you like to listen to records?"
"Groovy, Francie! I'd love that!"
We pulled out the record player and the records, setting the player in a good location. I held one record in each hand and showed them to Ken. "Do you want to hear the red one, or the blue one?"
"Let's put on the red."
I placed the red record on the player and started it up. It ended up being a fun rock instrumental, great for dancing. Ken instantly began to groove.
"Come on, Francie, dance with me!"
"Oh, I can't do that, Ken, I'm a terrible dancer! My waist doesn't twist, and my knees don't even bend!"
"Just do your best! Come on!"
And that particular night, we played the records over and over and danced to them. I'll admit that it felt awkward dancing without many areas of motion, but I did the best I could and it became a night to remember. And the more and more I liked Ken, the more and more guilty I felt, and the worse my relationship with Barbie became.
Barbie pulled me aside one night, saying that she wanted to talk with me. Stacey and Midge kept Ken occupied by pulling his cord and making him say all of those silly phrases while Barbie took me behind the case for a chat.
"Francie, how come you don't spend any time with me and the girls anymore at night?"
"I do," I replied. "We played dress-up together just a few nights ago."
"But that was a rare occurrence these days. Ever since Ken came on the scene, you've been spending all of your time with him." She put a hand on my shoulder. "We miss you, Francie."
I thought about that. She was right—I had been spending a lot of my time with Ken since his arrival, but it was just so much more interesting to talk to him, dance, or go on short walks than it was to play dress-up every night.
"Gee, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Barbie, or the other girls', but I just don't like playing dress-up every night. I get kind of tired of putting on the same clothes all of the time and parading about in them for everybody to see." I paused for a while and then continued. "I think that Ken is a very interesting person to talk to, and ever since Allan went missing, it seems that all I've done at night is play dress-up. I used to go exploring with Allan, or even play his go-go guitar and sing, and I kind of missed doing that sort of thing. But Ken likes to listen to records and go on walks—it's lots of fun!"
The concern never left my cousin's big blue eyes. "I know you miss Allan, Francie, but Ken isn't Allan. Besides, Janet designated Ken to be my boyfriend, and I don't want you getting the wrong ideas. Unlike Allan, Ken was made to be a charmer, and I don't want you getting hurt."
I was touched. There I was, falling for my own cousin's boyfriend, and she was concerned about my own well-being. "I really appreciate your concern, Barbie, but I think that I'll be okay." I offered her a smile. "If you or any of the other girls wants to take a break from dress-up one night, you're more than welcome to join us."
The girls never took a break from dress-up, and Ken and I continued to do the things we liked. One night, I even took out Allan's old go-go guitar and played it for Ken. My dear old friend had once told me before his disappearance that if he ever got lost, that he wanted me to take his go-go guitar. I always kept it wrapped in my swimsuit for safe keeping.
As I sang a song that Janet often played on her little red record player, Ken listened, smiling his easy, plastic smile. It was by an English group called the Troggs that Stacey just went wild for. The chords were really pretty easy, and it was one of the only songs that I had learned.
When I was done, Ken clapped and cheered. "Out of sight, Francie, out of sight!"
"Thank you." I blushed, ducking under the thin guitar strap. I was a little embarrassed about performing in front of Ken, but since he had enjoyed himself, it was well worth it.
"You know, you really are the grooviest doll I've met," he said with a smile.
"Oh you're just being nice…"
"No, I mean it, I really do." He looked at me for a long while, just smiling. It couldn't be so. I was plain, short, without pierced ears and not even having real eyelashes. Besides, he was supposed to be Barbie's boyfriend. He couldn't think that I was so special just because I didn't play dress-up all of the time.
"I love you, Francie."
He what? No, he couldn't be serious. Him, New Talking Good-Lookin' Ken in love with me, Straight Leg Francie Fairchild? It was both the best and the worst thing anybody had ever said to me in my life. I didn't know what to say.
"Ken…"
"I mean it, though, Francie, I love you." He said his next set of words cautiously. "Do you… love me?"
"I can't answer that," I replied, averting my gaze in shame. "Because if I tell the truth, I'll hurt Barbie, and if I lie, I'll hurt you."
Ken's eyes willed with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Francie, I guess I never realized how hard it is for you cousin dolls. You were designed to take the backseat to Barbie."
"It's okay, Ken, just please don't be upset."
He laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I understand, okay? It can be our secret."
I only hoped that Barbie would understand.