Why should the 91 percent feel bad about their bodies because of the portrayal of the 5 percent as "ideal"? This is exactly what the creators of the Lammily doll, otherwise known as the "normal Barbie," wanted to correct.
The Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, an organization whose mission is to support parents' efforts to raise healthy families by limiting commercial access to children and ending the exploitive practice of child-targeted marketing, is having a Vote for the Worst Toy of the Year contest.
Lamilly has potential and certainly is sparking great discourse on a topic that really needs to be addressed in today's society. But we shouldn't rush to congratulate doll makers just yet. Brown locks and a higher BMI aren't enough to make little Lamilly the every-girl doll.
I hate to criticize Lammily -- the new "normal" looking doll for little girls -- as challenging the all-mighty Barbie and her size negative-four standards is a commendable act. That said... I'm about to criticize Lammily.
It may be pretty in pink when we're kids and tweens, but when adolescents start to find changes in their bodies -- some faster than others -- girls may look at themselves in the mirror and compare their bodies to an impossible image.
It's not that the phrase is abusive, it's that the phrase is limiting -- and frankly, confusing for a small child. Be a man? What does that even mean? I'm 35 and sometimes I'm not even sure what it means.
Freedom from our body loathing won't come from taking more confident selfies, giving Barbie a double chin or determining to love ourselves better by posting unflattering pictures on Instagram. These are all ways we focus more on ourselves and our obsessions, not less.
In an effort to better understand the reality of how distant Barbie is from the average woman, I created a parody featuring what her breasts might look like at her current age of 55-years-old. It's a sad, sad truth but as women age, their breasts go south.
Affiliating Wendy Davis with Barbie attempts to transform a political leader into a vapid and empty-headed doll famous for her over-sexualized body. The pink Barbie-like frame of the poster plays up girlhood and downplays womanhood.
We keep telling ourselves that we should be flawless. When our lives falls short of our imaginary utopia, we get scared and lash out at ourselves and those we love. Our society worships perfection, photoshopping out wrinkles and bulges of our starving models.