Not Available in Any Store: Hypothyroid Barbie (TM)

According to Jody LaFerriere, it's obvious that Barbie is not hypothyroid!. clipart.com

by Jody LaFerriere

I watch a lot of children's television, and before you jump to conclusions, you should know if my son wanted to watch Masterpiece Theater, I could be persuaded to turn off Nickolodeon.

No, really.

But I kid. I enjoy the shows and the humor. What I don't enjoy is seeing the commercials for every toy in existence, in heavy rotation. My child wants one of everything he sees, and I spend a lot of time explaining that half the stuff doesn't work the way it looks like it does on television, and the other half of my time trying to figure out how I can buy an Easy Bake Oven for myself and pass it off as a gift to him.

Single serving cakes! Need I say more?

I have also now seen roughly 480,000 doll commercials, and we don't even buy dolls. I owned a Barbie® as a child, and I'm fascinated to see how she's evolved over the years. When I was young, she had a camper, a townhouse and a convertible, a couple of friends, a little sister whose boobs grew when you moved her arm. That's about it. Barbie® didn't have a career back then, other than maybe fashion model, but she's a career woman now. Or should I say careers woman? There are Barbie’s® who have worked or are now working in every field. Cool! Don't let that glass ceiling get in your way, girlfriend!

Unfortunately, the more commercials I watch, the more I realize that Barbie® and I really don't have a lot in common. I don't have scads of cool jobs or a wardrobe with thousands of outfits in it. And more importantly, it's very obvious that she's not hypothyroid like me.

How can I tell? Well, here are some of the telltale signs:

  • She'd stop fitting into most of those outfits. Couture is right out. No more Bob Macke designs, she'd be shopping at Lane Bryant for some leggings and oversized sweaters. Barbie® would only buy knits, because anything else might require ironing, which is really way too much work.
  • The Dream House coffee table would be piled high with old magazines, soda cans, socks, a hairbrush, nail polish, three different remotes, a half-eaten dish of M&Ms, sale flyers and some of the toys Skipper® left there and refused to pick up.
  • Standard accessories for Barbie® would be itty bitty pill bottles, receipts for co-pays and teeny Levoxyl recall notices.
  • The Cruise Ship would need to double the buffet area and dump the pool because Barbie® would be too depressed to put on a bathing suit.
  • Barbie® grooming sets would feature "real, lifelike thinning hair" requiring youngsters to find attractive styles that work for dolls with dwindling locks.
  • The doll that stirred controversy by having the pull-string message "Math is Hard" would be replaced with the equally controversial "Remembering to pay the bills is hard" and "Can you bring me some ice cream? I'm too tired to get up off the couch."
  • Dolls who can dance (ballet, etc.) would be replaced by dolls with aching joints and carpal tunnel syndrome. Those heart palpitations aren't caused by Ken…it’s just that her thyroid levels are out of whack!
  • You'd stop seeing those big perky blue eyes; she'd have big puffy bags and dark circles – if her eyes were even open at all.

I'm not saying Mattel should start making Hypo Barbie®. I mean, I don't wish this on my worst enemy, and I don't even have a personal vendetta against everyone's favorite pink, impossibly-proportioned blonde. Maybe the problem is with me, and I'm using her as an unrealistic role model. Who knows, after she and Ken get married, Bridal Barbie® may become Preggo Barbie® and we'll end up with Hypo Barbie® the natural way!

Now if you'll excuse me, the commercials are over and my cartoons are back on. Hey, I wonder what the Invisible Jet would look like if Wonder Woman was hypo?

Note: Barbie® is a trademark of Mattel, Inc.

Continue Reading