There is nothing quite as exciting to a doll collector as the exquisite anticipation of a doll event. Those of you who have been to one know what I am talking about. A doll event is the one place we can go to in which we are completely surrounded by people who “get” us, or at least “get” our passion for our hobby. It’s the one place we don’t have to explain our hobby to the uninitiated—those who can’t understand why a grown woman would buy 500 “Barbie dolls.” It’s the one place where we aren’t judged for putting down $300 for “just a doll” crafted by an amazing artist who should be getting much more for her efforts. And it is the one place where you can literally squeal with excitement upon winning a doll raffle and not be carted off to the Funny Farm.
Tomorrow I will attend Metrodolls in Iselin, New Jersey—an annual event founded by the Metrodolls club about a decade ago. I attended once before nine years ago, and, as I do at all doll events, I had a lovely time. The souvenir doll was a beautiful raven Tyler in black and red, and the companion doll was a pretty Shauna with variegated hair dressed in a bedtime ensemble. Both of these dolls are still in my collection.
While Metrodolls is a terrific time packed with the events all doll collectors hold dear—vendors, raffles, auctions, presentations, and the great souvenir doll reveal—it is also all too short. Given that I’ve been looking forward to this event since I decided in February to attend, that’s a lot of buildup over a one-day event.
But as I sit in my hotel room in New Jersey and write this, I am reminded that I am here for more than the dolls—I am here for the doll people. I reunited with several people in my former doll club this evening, and I had a wonderful time catching up with them and chatting with collectors I haven’t met before. Doll collecting is as much about the personalities that make up our community as it is about the art we collect.
So tomorrow when I squeal with joy over being called as the winner of a raffle, or when I gasp in delight when the souvenir doll is revealed, or when I squeeze through a crowded vendor table to lay claim to that perfect little black doll dress, I will know that I am in the company of people who understand completely where I am coming from.