After a year and a half without buying a doll, I have pushed the button so to speak. This purchase was not about a desire to have a new doll, nor because I needed a change or even because I could buy one. It was because of the circumstance, an American doll that happened to be in the UK, happened to be very reasonable in cost, and it just happened to be the kind that was my most cherished doll as a child.
I remember the day. It was my birthday and I came home from school, finding her standing on the credenza in the entryway. She was the most magnificent creature I had ever seen. I had only had baby types dolls before, and this seemed to be like having a real friend, someone my own age. She was so much fun and so dear to me. I cannot remember how long I had her, but I was passionate about her, so much so, that to this day I remember her destruction by my callous cousins as a painful childhood event.
As an adult doll nut, I have toyed many times with the idea of getting some of my childhood dolls, although none of them are a particular interest to me today. I prefer mulitjointed dolls, unusual dolls and not the mass produced staring eyed dolls of my childhood. And I have always been against having dolls for the sake of having them, they are active companions or they move on. Yet, it appealed to me to consider replacing the one special doll, seeing how it would be to hold her once again. I have only seen her once in person since mine was destroyed…that was a few years ago at a antique market place. She was in bad condition, with faded yellow limbs and tatty hair and a cracked side. Her one eye was pushed in. And still, the seller wanted £100 for her! I didn’t get a chance to hold her, so this dolly coming to me is going to be about a bit of reliving something dear to me in my past.
I am not expecting anything to come of it. What we think is fabulous in childhood does often seem completely odd as an adult. It’s a memory trip, but whether I keep her or not is on the table. I don’t have any of the usual excited doll-anticipation feelings of an incoming doll, it’s mostly just a feeling of a reunion of sorts. So I am feeling open and amused…wondering if this will finally put to rest that terrible tragedy. Who knows?
Here are the seller photo’s:
She said there wasn’t any damage or discolouration’s, and as is most common she cannot speak. Her hair appears to be uncut and still holding it’s original set. The dress is a replacement, but from the original sewing pattern.
Mine was dark haired and here is a photo that I felt most resembled what I remember of her:
I cannot be sure of the colour of eyes, but I do remember the pink dress and white apron. I think she had brown eyes, but I maybe overly influenced by my daughter’s and granddaughters dark hair and brown eyes. But this photo gleaned off the net shows that cheerful face I remember so well.
I have an email off to my father to see if he knows of any photo’s of me with my old Chatty Cathy. I do not recall any, but who knows.