Apparently, I am the worst mom ever. Why? Because M is the only child in the universe without a Monster High doll. ALL the girls are into Monster High. ALL the girls have them but M. M loves them and they’re the only toy she wants and will ever want. EVERYONE has the dolls and I’m SO MEAN.
I told her flat out I refuse to buy them, and she asked why. I told her that I think they’re inappropriate and I don’t want to spend my money on them. I told her she’s welcome to save her money and get one, should she choose to do so, but I’m absolutely not paying a penny for them.
My husband asked me why I was so dead set against them, after all, how different are they from Barbie? Well, outlandish as Barbie is, she can at least be an astronaut or president. (Pink, of course) Monster High, which appear to be just a Bizarro-world version of Bratz, do one thing. They go to high school, wear miniskirts and platform heels, and judging from the TV show preview I saw, look at boys. That appears to be it. They also just look weird. Their giant, make-up slathered bobble-heads sit on top of weirdly skeletal, strangely-jointed bodies. Their legs stick out at weird angles, and they’re skinny enough to make Barbie look fat, and that’s saying something. Their clothing is completely inappropriate for the elementary aged girls to whom they are marketed. Frankly, I think they just look gross.
In addition, I think it’s the high school connotation bothers me. These mini-skirted monstrosities are clearly meant to be the popular girls, and every girl should want to be like them. Yet another hyper-sexualized, air-headed model for our girls.
Plus, I’m just not buying any more fashion dolls, period. Of course, now Monster High rolled out “Ever After High” which crosses these things with princesses, because that’s just what we needed. MORE princesses, now with skeletal bodies and giant deformed heads! Yayyyy!
I remember when I was little, and ALL the girls had Cabbage Patch dolls. I thought I should have one, even though I didn’t really want one. My mother refused to get one, on the grounds that they were a) too expensive, b) ugly and c) she just didn’t like them. I was so put out, until I forgot. To this day I never missed it. The story sounds eerily familiar.
I told M the Cabbage Patch story, and she was not amused. I figure this is just good practice for when she’s a teenager, and I’m still SO MEAN.