My mother loved Rufus Rutter. He was her favorite doll, and she delighted in bringing him to the dental office where she worked. There she would place him in the reception area so he could great patients with his big, dopey grin. Some patients loved him. Others were freaked out by him. Rufus was a conversation opener–and mom loved to talk to just about anyone.
Mom got her first glimpse of Rufus at his Tonner Con debut, where he joined his perpetual love, Ellowyne Wilde, as a table centerpiece. He wore a suit and plaid raincoat, clutching an umbrella in one hand and a heart-shaped box of chocolates in the other. Something about his getup and dopey grin appealed to mom, and she declared that she’d like to have him.
Now mom did not own–or want to own–an Ellowyne doll. She didn’t collect fashion dolls in general–child dolls most appealed to her. Rufus would be the oldest doll in her collection, and he would tower over her little girls. But she said that he made her laugh.
Rufus would become the only doll in my mother’s collection that she actually played with. While the others stayed carefully arranged on curio shelves in static positions and wearing the same outfits year after year, Rufus sat on her dresser, where he sported a variety of casual and formal clothes. Rufus had a claim on my mother’s heart that no other doll ever had.
When I inherited mom’s collection, I took Rufus from her house first. He currently stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Prudence, who, in my world, is a lesbian and has become Rufus’s best friend. When I was brainstorming an article idea for the latest issue of FDQ, Rufus’s dopey grin caught my eye, and I was struck by a vision of him between his handyman jobs–dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt–lying in his basement apartment and dreaming, as always, of Ellowyne Wilde.
The resulting article, “Rufus’s Daydream,” appears in the Autumn 2015 edition of FDQ, now shipping to subscribers. Below is a teaser. To find out how the story ends, paper and digital issues are available at FDQ’s web site.
My very talented friend, Angela Nielsen, provided the story’s photos.
*****
He spent a lot of time lying on the small cot that was his bed, wondering what she was doing in her apartment four stories above. His own apartment—much smaller than hers, of course—was in the basement of the grand Victorian home that once belonged to her grandmother. His space was modest, as was he, but he didn’t have many wants or needs—at least of the material sort. As the house’s resident handyman, it was also his workplace. And he didn’t venture out much— except at the insistence of Prudence, who never tired of telling him that he was growing paler by the day and needed to get out into the sunlight.
Prudence was her best friend, and his good friend as well. Prudence was also his handiest excuse to get closer to her. After all, she too did not venture out much, generally preferring to envelop herself in her pensive moods and linger over the trinkets and ephemera with which she surrounded herself in the spacious rooms she inhabited. In the handful of times he had been in her apartment, he was mesmerized at the number of antique clocks, vintage outfits on dress forms, porcelain ladies, and dried flowers that occupied every corner of her rooms.
It was an enchanted space frozen in time, much like she was. To him, she was not of this world, and that created a distance between them that he often despaired of ever bridging…
This is just a quick post to wish my American readers a festive July 4th. I am currently in Colorado visiting with my husband’s family. My in-laws live in a mountain community of less than 1,000 residents. No more than a dozen businesses line its main street, and there is no stop light. It is a quirky town, and breathtakingly beautiful.
When we visited last summer, I took a doll with me and photographed her against the mountains, valleys, and lakes we came across. This year I am doing the same, with the added bonus of sharing my doll photography time with my 7-year-old niece, who brought along her American Girl doll. It’s been so much fun getting to share my love of dolls with a little girl who is just starting to become enchanted with them. As soon as I arrived, my niece unpacked her backpack of American Girl clothes and accessories, and we both began redressing our respective dolls. I adore my son, but it is so magical to be able to relate to a child through doll play. Playing cars and trains with my son just isn’t the same.
Today my niece and I took our dolls outdoors to photograph them for the Fourth of July holiday. A holiday craft project created by my mother-in-law provided a festive backdrop.
Even Barbie joined us for a while.
This year, my travel doll is “Sage,” a platinum Cinderella Tonner doll repainted by “K.” Sage wore some older Tonner separates for her photo shoot. I love the pieces that Tonner created for Tyler and friends when that line was in its heyday. They remain the basic staples of my dolls’ closet, and I return to my favorites (like Sage’s top) again and again.
Last year, Blush and Bashful Tyler accompanied us to Colorado. I was able to get some terrific photos during several day trips we took.
After our photo session was done, my niece and I headed for a playground, where our dolls joined us on the swings. It will be difficult to leave the crisp mountain air for Florida’s heat and humidity when we return home in a couple days.
Five years ago I bought a gorgeous repaint off eBay. She was a fresh-faced young woman who had begun life as Tonner’s Cinderella. Her artist sprinkled freckles across her face and chest, gave her nose and eyebrow rings, and painted an understated rose tattoo above her right breast. Her crowning glory was a fabulous head of variegated brown dreadlocks, which hung past her shoulders and down her back. Yes, she had the stereotypical hipster vibe, but she preserved the look of a young innocent and hesitant adventurer. I fell in love with her at first sight, checked my dolly budget, and eagerly clicked the “buy” button.
Her artist, the talent behind “Bordello Dolls,” promptly shipped the doll—christened “Kristen”—and sent me her tracking information. A few days later, I received a USPS notice on my front door advising me that Kristen’s delivery had been attempted. I work out of the house full-time, so I signed the slip, asking the postman to leave the doll at my door. I waited three days for Kristen’s redelivery, but she did not arrive.
I contacted the post office, which swore the doll was delivered per my instructions. I then contacted the artist, who also contacted her post office, and she got the same reply. The front desk worker at my post office produced my signed slip and said they had done their job. The slip indicated that I authorized delivery without a signature, so they were not responsible for the doll once it was redelivered at my front door.
I had never had a package stolen before, and I live in a low-crime neighborhood. I feared I was out both the lovely Kristen and my $300, but the artist kindly offered to paint me another doll, which was more than nice of her, as she was not the one at fault. I knew, however, that there was only one Kristen.
It was the next day or so after my doll disappeared that I was casually browsing my typical haunts on eBay, and I saw Kristen again offered for sale. This time the seller was not Bordello Dolls, but one completely unknown to me. The auction was a carbon copy of the artist’s original one, complete with her photos and description.
WTF?
Was this seller my thief? Or was it another rip-off artist trying to sell a doll he/she did not have, making this a very weird coincidence?
In my confusion, I sought advice from the established online Doll Authorities—my favorite doll community board (in my case, Prego).
The Pregoites immediately swung into action–as I knew they would–doing the background checks and homework that I didn’t have time to do with my hectic work schedule and small child. In no time, they had shut down the criminal’s eBay account (these were the days in which eBay was actually responsive to their customers’ needs). Other Pregoites researched the seller’s background and soon identified him as a well-known con artist in the doll world—although his “real” name was unknown.
By now, conversation about Kristen and her whereabouts dominated the board’s discussion on a daily basis. Theories were put forward, allegations were made, and the most die-hard sleuths remained committed to identifying the thief by name. The biggest mystery, of course, was how this random member of an online doll community manage to identify me as the buyer of this specific doll, get my address, stalk my postman, and then steal the doll from my front door. The unlikelihood of it all seemed to propel my amateur detective friends on in their quest to solve the mystery.
In the meantime, I contacted my local police station to report the theft and enlist their help. As I related my unlikely tale to officers whose job it is to track down stolen goods, I could sense their incredulity in the silence on the other end of the phone line. And when I told them the stolen item was a doll purchased off eBay for $300, I actually heard a chuckle. At which point I slammed down the phone and muttered obscenities about the uselessness of my local taxpayer-funded police force.
But the real detectives wouldn’t give up. Finally, one day I heard from a Pregoite who had not only identified the thief, but also had his street address.
He lived within a ten-minute drive of my house.
After more digging, it was discovered that this individual was a member of Prego himself. He apparently saw a previous post in which I announced my purchase of Kristen, located my address, stalked my postman, stole the doll, and then listed her on eBay.
WTF?
Prego is an international board, but its membership is relatively small. The entire fashion doll community is small—estimated to be no more than several thousand. The fact that someone in my neighborhood was a Prego member, managed to identify a specific doll I had purchased off eBay, tracked down my address, found out exactly when that doll was being delivered, and then stole that doll from me to repost it on eBay strained belief. A few people even hinted that I had staged the whole thing. I almost couldn’t blame them.
With a physical address, Prego really sprang into action. They had a name and an address, and they did everything in their power to shame this person into returning the doll. They also knew his personal email address and they knew that he was on Prego, so they peppered him with threats if he did not return the stolen merchandise. They threatened everything from legal action to a good house egging. I could not help but to sit back and enjoy this rallying to Kristen’s defense.
And now comes the most unbelievable chapter of this unlikely tale of dolly theft. One evening in the midst of this drama I couldn’t sleep and went downstairs into my kitchen to get a glass of milk. It was probably around midnight. I was startled by some scuffling close to my house, and I peered out the kitchen window. I saw nothing. I attributed the noise to some random animal and went back to bed.
The next morning, when I opened my front door to go to work, I tripped over a Tonner-sized box. Kristen had come home.
News of the doll’s return brought much joy to the Prego community. My dolly friends had accomplished what the post office and police refused to—and they did it with far fewer resources. I learned that day to never, ever fuck with the doll community or one of its own. They will take you down.
Since my husband has always vied with my dolls to be first in my heart, it was important to me to accommodate both of them on my wedding day—which took place eight years ago today. So not long after I said “yes” to the ring, I suggested to my fiancé that we place doll bride and groom centerpieces at each of the tables at our reception.
That did not go over well.
Instinctively jealous of his long-time rivals, my husband demurred, refusing to share our day with my beloved vinyl works of art. This, of course, got my hackles up, and we ended up nearly divorcing before getting married in the first place.
After we dug in our respective heels, intense negotiations followed. The upshot was a compromise in which we agreed to one dolly bride and groom to be placed on the gift table at our reception. It wasn’t what I originally had in mind, but I had been told that marriage was all about compromise, so I was willing to be the bigger person just this once.
After much long-distance preparation for a Colorado wedding, the Big Day arrived. The ceremony was lovey, if unconventional, and our guests entered the reception hall in fine spirits. The doll display generally drew smiles, particularly from the groom’s guests, many of whom had not been told of his now-wife’s obsession. But we were legally hitched at that point, so it was too late for them to talk him out of his obvious mistake.
Since many guests were the parents of young children whom they had made someone else’s problem for the evening, the dancing carried on until late, and the alcohol continue to flow. When I took the occasional break from the dance floor, I noticed that my wedding dolls were frequently changing positions, and it pissed me off a bit that my guests were taking liberties with them. But being a new bride made me temporarily indulgent of such behavior, and I so dismissed my concerns as petty.
When the festivities finally came to an end, and my new husband, our parents, and I were clearing the hall of decorations and gifts, I went to gather my vinyl bride and groom. To my dismay, I found them laying down, the bride’s gown hitched up around her neck, in what is traditionally referred to as the”69” position.
Part of me felt violated. A larger part burst into loud laughter.
About a month later, my husband and I developed the photos from the disposable cameras we gave our guests so they could snap pictures during the reception. (This was a common practice in the pre-digital Dark Ages.) Among the photos, we found picture after picture of my poor dolly bride and groom in nearly every sex position imaginable. Apparently, my dolls were more of a hit than I had realized. And our friends were much more immature than I had given them credit for.
Looking back, I am now grateful that my husband prevented me from placing my dolls on each reception table. It would have been a veritable dolly orgy.
(Editor’s note: Today’s post is dedicated to my husband of eight years. It’s been a crazy ride, and I think we’re stronger for it. I love you, Shawn. We have an exciting road ahead. Just keep swimming.)
Once upon a time, the annual Tonner Convention was a big event that I shared with my mother and looked forward to for months. In the early 2000’s, we traveled to Orlando, Chicago, and beyond, soaking up the excitement of an event that only other overly enthusiastic doll fanatics can truly understand. We would typically tack on a couple days to our adventure to see the local sights. One of my favorite memories of my mom is going on a Segway tour of Chicago with her during a picture-perfect June day in 2007.
But of course, the only constant in life is change. Mom no longer recognizes either me or her beloved dolls, and I have not attended the annual Tonner Collectors Convention for five years. Besides my mother not being there, some of the luster of that event has faded for me. Tonner fashion dolls were much more in vogue then, and Tyler and Sydney reigned supreme. Those girls got me into serious collecting in the first place, and I’m one of the old-timers who look back with nostalgia on the early 2000’s as Tonner’s heyday in the fashion doll world. Being among the first to glimpse those coveted centerpiece and souvenir dolls of Tyler and the girls of the Chase Modeling Agency–some of the best dolls Tonner ever created, IMHO–made me and my mom giddy with excitement.
And those were the days of truly limited editions. Tonner only produced enough dolls for the collectors present–if that many–and there was real suspense over who would be lucky enough to “win” the very-limited centerpieces–which were always huge, over-the-top, and fabulous. (There was actually a time when “winning” was defined as getting the centerpiece for free. Such things actually happened in the doll world pre-recession.)
Today, Tonner makes available excess convention product to the general public a few days after the convention ends. Whether this is a good thing is subject to debate. For me, it’s a bad thing. It takes away a big reason I attended the conventions to begin with. Back in my day, we worked for those convention dolls. We paid for pricey airline tickets, stayed in expensive hotels, and emptied our wallets to ship our hauls back home. Those dolls represented one hell of an investment. And I cherished them all the more for it. And they accordingly fetched a pretty penny on the secondary market–which they should.
When you remove from the equation that giddy suspense of seeing and possessing some of the most deliciously exclusive fashion dolls of the day, you fundamentally change the nature of the event. If I can get the dolls without having to shell out for transportation, lodging, and meals, why go? Tonner knows this, and in response, I see the company making a bigger effort to make their conventions more about being there. They invest in entertainment; fun, interactive games; and silly activities. They may not have as many attendees as they once did, but those they do have seem to be having one hell of a good time (if the videos and photos that end up on Facebook are any example).
But for me, Tonner Con has lost its luster. While I can definitely appreciate their artistry, some of his new doll lines leave me cold. (She may have a great wardrobe, but the permanently stoned expression and jazz hands of Deja Vu just don’t do it for me.) My mom, of course, does not attend any longer, and neither do my closest doll friends–who have mostly moved on to resin FBJDs.
BUT!
This year’s Tonner Con produced some gorgeous and original dolls that have stirred in me some of that original excitement I felt for my first Tonner dolls. There are four in particular that I think are major triumphs. The others are lovely too, just not to my personal taste. And Tonner gave us the most comprehensive convention coverage yet this year. His photographer documented each event blow-by-blow, releasing photos of each souvenir doll as it was revealed to convention-goers, along with descriptions, edition numbers, and prices. It was as close to being there as you could get without actually making the trip.
The biggest objects of my desire to come out of the convention is the Ellowyne group. They are straight out of an instruction manual on how to be the perfect 50s housewife and hostess. They scream “Lucy and Ethel.” Their outfits are well-thought-out, and the fabric combinations work to great effect. Their hairstyles are elaborate and period-accurate. I. Want. One. But I couldn’t possibly tell you which one I like best.
Vintage Tea Ellowyne
Vintage Kitchen LizetteVintage Baker Prudence
My second choice is no surprise. It uses the “Kit” sculpt, one of my favorites from the Chase Modeling line. She wears an adorable “rockabilly” themed square dance outfit. Love the execution. Love the hair. Love her.
Dixie
Other dolls included another Rockabilly-themed fashion doll, several child dolls from the “Patsy” line, and Evangeline. The convention doll was a Marley Wentworth gift set, complete with two outfits and two wigs. It’s great to see Tonner offer a gift set again, and Marley’s black coat dress looks lovely and original. But I don’t think I will ever warm up to Marley’s stern expression. She just looks pissed off–nothing like the wholesome, healthy beauty that her sister had possessed in her early years. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe Tyler wouldn’t survive in this world of harsh, eternally angry fashion dolls. Sybarites seem to have set the tone for the age of The Angry Fashion Doll, and now she is everywhere. Perhaps her face reflects the cynicism and frustration of a post-recession world. I don’t know. All I do know is that I miss her sister.
Marley Wentworth gift set
Marley’s angry predecessors:
What are YOU looking at?
So there you go–a convention review from someone who wasn’t even there.
Now excuse me while I wait for these new dollies to go on sale…
Moving is a nightmare for anyone. But for doll collectors, that pain is magnified by as many dolls you’ve amassed over the years. I last moved nine years ago, when my husband and I relocated from Maryland to Florida. Now we will retrace our steps, reuniting with family and friends and beginning a new chapter in our lives. And that all sounds great–until I go into my doll room and realize the massive amount of hoarding that I’ve engaged in during the past decade. And then I just want to say “fuck it,” and stay home.
When we relocated to Florida, my collection was roughly half of the size it is now, and I spent months lovingly packing each individual doll into its corresponding box. Hair nets were put on, ribbons were tied, silicon bead packs were included. I made damned sure no harm would come to my treasures on their journey. And I must admit that it was kind of fun going over each doll and creating a spreadsheet for all of them. I was able to spend time with and appreciate each one.
Towers of boxes in the garage
Today my collection is twice as large and I share my home with a hyperactive 5-year-old child and a menagerie of needy animals, all vying for my constant attention. I no longer have my mother to help out, and my “packing time” during the week is limited to the precious hour and a half I get to myself after my son finally goes to sleep and before I myself fall into bed exhausted.
Spot the kitty
Are you done yet, Mommy?
I am finding this packing process to be the polar opposite of the “fun” I had preparing to move here. I long ago gave up trying to match up individual dolls with their original boxes. I just aim to match them up with their corresponding manufacturer box. That means that nearly all of my Tonner boxes have scribbles on their ends indicating the doll they now contain. Sometimes these scribbles are crossed out and relabeled multiple times. Limited space in our small townhouse (there are no basements in Florida) has meant that I’ve had to significantly cull the number of boxes I store. So this time, each girl will not have her own individual coffin in which to travel. Many of them (carefully packed) will make the journey in plastic bins. Assigning my girls to indignity of this mode of travel would have horrified me nine years ago. Now I don’t give a shit. They’ll be fine.
dolly jail
Our move will likely not take place until the end of the summer, but–knowing now how much time it can take to pack a collection of this magnitude–I began organizing, sorting, and packing dolls three weeks ago. Last weekend I packed dolls for two full days. On Sunday evening, I had packed 325 dolls. And it didn’t look like I made a dent.
I suppose at this point I’m supposed to get philosophical and ponder whether I own my things, or if my things, in fact, own me. And then I should conclude the latter, foreswear all material objects, and walk into the sunset in search of some ascetic commune to join.
But then I would miss the next doll convention. And I’m just not that strong.
Today more than any other, I think of my own dear mom. She is still physically with me, but Alzheimer’s has essentially taken her away, as she no longer recognizes me or anyone else. Today I’d like to celebrate her the way she used to be. Mom and I started collecting dolls together 21 years ago, and our mutual love for the hobby brought us together in a way nothing else had before. We traveled to conventions, played together, and made new friends all over the country. Some of my best memories of mom are dolly memories. So here’s to you mom–my best dolly friend and the best mom ever.
Individual fashion dolls can elicit strong reactions from seasoned collectors. Like everyone else, we are set in our ways, and we know what we like. New fashion dolls, especially ones that differ stylistically from the ones currently in vogue among most collectors, can face rapid rejection—or eager acceptance. The history of doll collecting is littered with fashion dolls that never made it past their first issue or two. Among those who do gain a following, few vinyl fashionistas manage to hold on beyond five to ten years. Modern fashion dolls that have remained on the market beyond a decade or two can probably be counted on one hand. There is a reason Mattel proudly celebrates Barbie’s birthday.
Fashion doll collectors are an enthusiastic bunch. When they like something, they tend to really, really like it. And when they don’t, they often do not budge in their opinions. And there is very low tolerance for fellow collectors who speak ill of—or “trash”—one’s favorite vinyl plaything. Critical opinions about a specific doll expressed in online doll communities—even those stated in the most diplomatic of ways—are not well received by said doll’s “defenders.” Flame wars on dolly boards can ignite quickly, and they may smolder for days, weeks, months, even years. Sides are taken, alliances are made. Whenever this “insult my doll, insult me” culture raises its ugly head, doll boards can resemble a school yard sandbox in which today’s “best friends” are tomorrow’s potential rivals.
So what gives? A friend who has made the same observation once suggested to me that fashion doll collectors are either artists, wanna-be artists, or patrons of artists—and artists, of course, are famously temperamental people. I don’t think that accounts for all of it, but perhaps it does in part. I’m no artist, but I consider my dolls art, and I see myself as a patron of artists and a curator of an art collection. When confronted with a new doll that challenges my preconceived notion of what is “pretty” and what is not in the fashion doll world, I’m more likely to label that doll “hideous” and reject it outright than I am to quietly and politely pass on it.
But there are exceptions. I rejected resin FBJDs outright when they began to gain traction in the US fashion doll industry about a decade ago. They were too pale, too fragile, and too awkward with those ugly, open joints, I self-righteously declared.
I now own three, and I am saving for a fourth.
I don’t mean to paint the entire doll collector community with the same wide brush. Plenty of us who collect radically different dolls do manage to keep our most inflammatory opinions about doll aesthetics to ourselves, and we manage to maintain friendships with fellow collectors in spite of such significant barriers. So today I’m going to test the limits of my relationship with you, dear readers, and list a few dolls issued this year that have—for one superfluous reason or another—either rubbed me the wrong way or made me laugh out loud. When a doll makes me laugh the first time I see it, I most often think to myself, “WTF was that artist/company thinking?” And so I present to you my 2015 WTF Doll Awards.
One small disclaimer: This list contains examples of the dolls with which I am most familiar—especially Tonner and Integrity. My choices, therefore, are not meant to imply that these companies’ dolls are any more laughable than any other. If I were most familiar with Superfrock, I could easily dedicate this entire post to them. (And don’t even get me started on those Inamorata atrocities.) But before you start showering me with the hate mail for that last remark, please read on…
1) Worst Doll Name Award: “Brrooties” Ellowyne
I have no problem at all with this doll. She is very cute, and the coat is darling. I do have a problem with her name. “Brrooties”? Seriously? Yes, it’s likely no doll sales have ever been lost based only on the name an artist gave his/her creation, but, as any marketer (or politician) can tell you, language is a powerful tool in the art of sales, and, in skillful hands, it can go a long way toward enhancing an item’s desirability.
I’m a writer, so this may bug me more than it does others. But Tonner’s marketing team needs to step up its verbal presentation. Last year they even started recycling names. It’s a big language, Tonner Doll Co. You’ve been around for a long time, but I assure you there are words in the English language that you haven’t used yet.
2) Most Insanely Overpriced Doll Award: Cissy as Elsa
Much has already been written about this latest Cissy incarnation, which can be yours for a mere $5,000. Even in a community where it’s not unusual to dish out $600 for a limited-edition resin FBJD, this doll’s price tag is eye-popping. Well-preserved antique dolls can command this much and more, but there is no comparison between an exquisite, original 19th-century French bebe and a vinyl Cissy that depicts the latest Disney princess in vogue.
Who is Madame Alexander marketing this doll to? The grandmas who collect their cute seasonal Wendy dolls? My mom collected Wendy, and she was happy to fork over $40-$50 for one of the dolls she found particularly endearing. But $5K for a doll wearing a dress covered in blue crystals and plastic snowflakes? I think mom would have a good laugh at that one.
Perhaps Madame Alexander is counting on its collectors saving up their Social Security checks. Cissy-as-Elsa is apparently made-to-order, so there’s no danger of her eventually making an appearance on the clearance aisle of Tuesday Morning.
3) Most Inappropriate Boxing Ring Attire Award: Jacqueline O’Rion
And in this corner is Integrity’s Jacqueline O’Rion, wearing, in the words of Integrity’s marketing copy writer, “her sexy and mysterious hooded dress!” Now it’s possible that feminized boxing ring attire is all the rage at New York Fashion Week. I have no idea. There have been many sillier trends. But the second I saw this photo in my in-box, I started looking for the boxing gloves the doll had to come with. And I seriously doubt she could win any rounds with that long hair bouncing around her face. Maybe she could use it to blind her opponent while she throws a left hook, though.
Just use your imagination.
4) Doll Most Likely to Never Make an Appearance Award: Caine
In addition to death and taxes, there are two other certainties in life: 1) Each year, Robert Tonner will introduce one or more new doll lines licensed from a movie studio to depict the characters from a film that no one has ever heard of, and 2) The release will include at least one doll that will not be approved by the movie studio until the movie itself is a distant memory. This year, “Caine,” played by Channing Tatum in the sci-fi flick, “Venus Rising,” is thus far a no-show, and the film—mocked for its acting, lauded for its special effects—is well on its way to a second life via DVD.
5) The Dukes of Hazard Meets Marvel Award: Bombshell Wonder Woman
If my remarks on this doll sound uninformed, I assure you that they are. I have never read any comic book other than one about Archie Andrews. I have never watched a comic book movie—unless it starred Robert Downey Jr. (For his sake, I make an exception for the Iron Man flicks.) I have never watched any TV show or movie starring Wonder Woman. Even Lindsey Wagner annoys me for some reason.
So I do not know if this incarnation of Wonder Woman is supposed to be adapted from a specific artistic or film rendering. All I know is that she’s a pretty accurate cross between Wonder Woman and Daisy Duke. With that yellow hair bandana, Daisy Duke short-shorts, and mid-calf country boots, she looks like she’d be quite at home in the driver’s seat of the General Lee. Not what you should be aiming for with a superhero doll.
6) Doll Most Easily Confused With Your Dog’s Favorite Chew Toy Award: Periwinkle
When it comes to WTF dolls, Madame Alexander is the company that keeps on giving. Each year, its Cissy, Cissette, and Wendy dolls get weirder and weirder, and I continue to wonder who the hell is buying these dolls. I personally know no one (outside of my Mom, who used to buy the occasional Wendy) who collects MA dolls. This may come as a shocker to my non-doll-collecting readers (Are there any out there?), but we doll collectors are a pretty diverse crowd. In fact, depending on what we collect, we may not have anything in common with one another at all. Put a Sybarite aficionado in a room with a reborn fanatic, and I guarantee there will be an endless amount of awkward silence.
According to the Internet Gods, Periwinkle is Tinkerbell’s “twin sister.” I find this hard to believe, as poor Periwinkle looks more like the misshapen sister abandoned at birth. That horrible white fuzzy wig, thrown-together, poorly-stitched piece of blue felt that passes as an outfit, and pom-pom bedroom slippers make for one pathetic-looking fairy. And she can be all yours for the low, low MSRP of $159.95.
7) Most Obvious Tonner Doll Rip-off Award: Madame Alexander Dorothy and Toto Steampunk
If imitation is the highest form of flattery, Madame Alexander must be wildly in love with Tonner’s aesthetic. In 2012, Tonner applied the popular steampunk treatment to Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz—to great effect. I don’t particularly like steampunk myself, but I had to admit that the detail and execution of this doll was terrific. I even bought one.
Two years later, along comes MA with their steampunk Dorothy—with an interpretation awfully similar to Tonner’s. I’ll let the photos above speak for themselves. Sadly, MA is not very talented at stealing, either. Tonner’s Dorothy leaves their Dorothy in the tornado dust.
8) The Past Is Best Left in the Past Doll Award: Ollie Lawson, Vice Effect
Integrity loves to commit all kinds of fashion atrocities with its male dolls, and collectors can’t seem to get enough of them. Not calling this doll Don Johnson probably saved Integrity a lot in licensing fees, but there can be no doubt who this guy is modeled after. I remember Miami Vice well, and even then I thought that the only thing worse than Don Johnson’s acting skills was his ever-present pink, blue, and white suit. Please, Integrity, let the past stay in the past. There is a reason men don’t dress like this anymore.
9) Most Likely Skin Cancer Candidate: “Second Skin” Vanessa
I suppose this doll is called “Second Skin” as an acknowledgement that the character of Vanessa is, in fact, white—not black. Darkening her skin tone this much has the same effect as when Mattel first made “Black Barbie”—by simply giving her a darker vinyl. It looked like crap then, and it looks like crap now. You have plenty of beautiful black dolls with beautiful black features in your lineup, Integrity. Stick with them.
10) Trashiest Doll Award: Sybarite Solitaire
I’m probably going to lose some readers over this one. Yes, I know I am clearly in the minority here. She sold out in literally minutes – if not seconds, and she is highly coveted on the secondary market. But for me that does not change the fact that she looks like a mannish prostitute who just rolled out of bed after a hard night on the job.
Note that I would have given this award to the more-deserving Inamorata, but that would mean cutting-and-pasting her image onto my blog, and that doll scares the shit out of me.
11) 2015 WTF Doll Award Grand Prize: Madame Alexander’s Wendy as “Zombie Cheerleader”
I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during the MA creative meeting that resulted in this monstrosity. I can just imagine the conversation that took place:
Creative Director: The people upstairs want one more Wendy idea, guys.
Designer #1: How about zombies? They’re big right now.
Designer #2: But aren’t zombies kind of scary? Don’t they eat flesh?
Designer #3: I somehow don’t see Wendy as the flesh-eating type.
Designer #1: We won’t actually decompose her. Just mess with her makeup a little.
Designer #2: But won’t an undead Wendy be a little scary for the little old ladies who buy these dolls for their granddaughters?
Designer #1: Naw, zombies are cool. Grandma can show that she knows what the young people are into these days.
Creative Director: Whatever. I can’t tell the damned things apart any more, anyway.
Personally, I think she looks less like a zombie than the victim of a makeup session gone terribly wrong. I guarantee that any little girl getting this Wendy will develop a life-long hatred of dolls. Especially if she was also gifted the Lizzie Borden Wendy.
***
So there you go — my highly unscientific, erratically random 2015 WTF Doll Awards. As these opinions are purely the product of my own idiosyncratic aesthetic preferences, you will likely disagree with some, if not all, of them. Which is great, as variety is of the spice of life. Unless, of course, you are a fan of Zombie Wendy. Then you just need professional help.
If it isn’t already in your hot little hands, the Summer 2015 issue of FDQ (Fashion Doll Quarterly) is on its way to your mailbox (if you are a subscriber, that is). This issue of FDQ marks my first publication in a doll magazine. I’ve been writing about the business of healthcare for more than two decades as a journalist, but it wasn’t until this year that I decided to use my way with words to explore the world of fashion doll collecting through my blog and industry magazines. Pat Henry, editor of FDQ, was kind enough to give me space in her terrific magazine to talk about my experience of coming to own a couple of vintage fashion dolls from Robert Tonner’s personal collection.
As I wrote in an earlier post, Robert decided to auction off a large part of his massive vintage doll collection through Theriault’s auction house last November, and I placed two winning bids online. Afterward, I talked with Robert about his own journey as a collector. During my attendance at various doll conventions over the years, nearly all of the questions I’ve heard fans ask of Robert have to do with him as an doll artist–never a doll collector. But Robert himself never tires of saying that it is precisely his perspective as a collector that shapes his vision as an artist. So I thought it was time someone explored what makes Robert the Collector tick.
Robert’s doll, now in my collection: Sweet Sue (1957)
Robert’s doll, now in my collection: Betsy McCall (1958)
My interview with Robert forms the basis of the FDQ article, “Robert Tonner: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Collector.” Although the only place you can read that article is in the pages of FDQ, below is a partial transcript of my conversation with Robert that examines a bit of the interplay between doll collector and doll artist. (For the full article, check your mailbox. And if you’re not a subscriber, find out how you can become one here.)
Is there a doll or dolls that first inspired you to begin collecting?
Robert: Back when I first moved to New York, when I went to school and started working, I often went through FAO Schwartz while walking home. It was on 57th Street, on the ground floor. I had walked through it many times; I always liked toys, and I liked looking at them. I stopped one day when I saw a Sasha doll. To me, it looked like art. It was sculptural—it wasn’t like a cutesy doll. I looked at it, and looked at it, and looked at it. And I finally bought one. That was really the doll that started me off.
I wasn’t thinking about collecting, but I then I saw a flyer in the city for a doll show. I think it was in a church auditorium or something. I took a friend, and we went together. I was blown away. I had no clue there was such a thing as doll collecting. I had no idea there were mint-in-box (MIB) examples of dolls that I had seen on TV as a kid.
The thing that really got me were the Barbies. I hadn’t seen those MIB dolls since the day they came out. My interest immediately turned to Barbie, and I became a Barbie collector, which I think is what a lot of collectors do. There are all kinds of different quality ranges and price ranges for Barbies, allowing people to amass a large collection for not a lot of money.
Sasha doll
How did you first become interested in the business of making dolls?
Robert: I became obsessed with collecting and read as much as I could. By then, I had met Glenn Mandeville, who was a long-time doll dealer, and I remember going through the doll stores with him. That was when Macy’s and Gimbels had big doll selections. And Glenn pointed out to me that people had sculpted those dolls for toy companies. I didn’t understand what he meant at first. He said to me, “Where do you think the heads come from? People have to sculpt them.” And something clicked. I thought, “Oh, I have to try that.”
Do you remember your first doll?
Robert: When I was a kid, my sister was a year younger than me. My parents were kind of progressive at the time, because I remember that all four of us children got a Tiny Tears doll one Christmas. I thought that was pretty cool, probably because I wanted one. I do remember that when Mary got her Miss Revlon doll, I thought that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was the “Kissing Pink” doll. I remember the outfit and everything. Mary renamed it “Janet.”
During my collecting years pre-Internet, I picked up a Miss Revlon doll whenever I saw one MIB. They didn’t come around that often, so I didn’t have very many. And then when eBay came along, forget about it. I just went crazy. It became fascinating to me to learn why manufacturers made the choices they did, what dolls had which features, and what rarities were out there. I think I had a representation of at least about 95% of the styles that Revlon put out.
“Kissing Pink” Miss Revlon (circa 1957)
“Tiny Tears” (circa 1950)
Where did you put all of those dolls?
Robert: I often joke with people when they ask about storage, and I ask them, “What do you mean you have trouble storing your dolls? Why don’t you put them in your factory like I do?”
I literally did that. I do not keep dolls in my house—I do not have a doll room. I live with them all day; my office is filled with dolls. My life is filled with dolls, so I don’t need to go home to them.
I had two storage units at one time, and I stored more dolls in the factory. When I got new dolls, I’d look at them and live with them for a while, take them out and display them. And then at a certain point, I’d pack them up and think, “I’ll get back to that.”
How did you come to decide to part with so much of your collection?
Robert: UFDC (United Federation of Doll Clubs) asked me to do a display of my Revlon dolls a couple years ago. I was able to display beautiful examples of many of my favorite dolls. That finished the collection for me, in a way. I felt that I didn’t have to have every single one. I felt that this was, to me, a finished collection. But I didn’t know what to do then. I had had every intention of keeping my dolls before.
Then one of the doll magazines asked me to do an article. I was working on it, and there was a doll I wanted, and I knew I had it. I thought I knew where it was. I don’t remember much, but I usually do remember where I put my dolls. So I went down to the basement, and I was digging for it, and there were dolls there that I did not remember that I had purchased. And I thought, you know what, this is enough. I have got to let other people enjoy these. This is hoarding, and it’s unfair to other Revlon collectors, or to people who have never seen some of these dolls. So I decided I was definitely going to let some of it go.
Theriault’s auction catalog
Why was the auction entitled, “Inspiration”?
Robert: Florence Theriault (founder of Theriault’s auction house) and I were talking, and I told her that these dolls are the inspiration for a lot of the work that I do today. They are many times removed, but there is a spark there that leads me in a specific direction. These dolls are the inspiration for the dolls I do.
Of course, there’s direct correlation when I do a reproduction of a 10” Little Miss Revlon. It’s hard to explain, but it’s the feeling you get when you open a box and look at a doll for the first time. I try to capture that, although if you put the two dolls together, they look nothing alike. It’s very hard to explain – it’s part of the design process for me – it’s a very personal thing.
What dolls did you choose to keep?
Robert: I of course held on to all of the dolls that I have made. I don’t keep everything I make – I have to pick and choose, because we just don’t have the storage space. As far as the vintage ones, I kept an example here and there of dolls that really appeal to me for some reason or another. For example, there is a 22-inch Revlon I have that is really beautiful. It was a gift, and I would never let it go, because it’s part of a story. I like when dolls have a background to them.
When I see that someone has loved a doll, I love that. The “mommy-made” dolls that I have, I hold on to. It doesn’t matter that they aren’t worth anything on the market.
I sold off my Barbie collection 25 years ago, but, in 2009, Mattel came out with all of these reproduction dolls, and they did the most beautiful #1 reproduction. So I bought up a whole bunch of those. And then I found repro and vintage outfits, so I have mint #1s in all of these mint outfits. They aren’t worth much, but I love them. If a repro outfit I bought didn’t fit, I’d take it apart and make it fit. I probably have about 40 Barbies now.
Pullip
Happy to be Me
Lammily
Do you still collect modern dolls?
Robert: Yes, I do. I like the Pullip dolls; they are very quirky. I have a couple resin BJDs. There are a lot of people out there making wonderful fashion dolls, but we do too. So I don’t really collect those.
My collecting is taking a new turn – I now look for odd things that have never been seen, or things that had a very short life span. I like dolls with an interesting story behind them. I just bought a “Happy to be Me” doll. There was a Kickstarter campaign recently, and this guy produced a similar doll called “Lammily,” and I bought one of those. I just think these things are very interesting. I like the quirky and “interesting to me” things. I’m not looking for anything particular at this point.
The Tonner Doll Co. released images of the remainder of its spring 2015 line yesterday, and, like every other fashion doll collector on the Internet, I have an opinion about it.The fashion doll items were limited; out of 37 dressed dolls and fashion-only offerings, only 12 could properly be called “fashion dolls,” and that includes those from Tonner’s “Re-imagination” series. There were also four female superheros, although only one of those was ready for photography.
Does this mean that Tonner is moving toward primarily becoming a designer of child dolls and superheros? Patsy and Patsyette have been generously represented in the past few lines, and Tonner’s new child doll line, “My Imagination,” seems to be set up as a clear contender for American Girl fans, especially since the outfits appear to be designed to fit the AG body. Like many long-time Tonner fashion doll collectors, I yearn for the days of yore when Tyler and Company ruled the fashion doll market, and each line brought a bounty of different sculpts and fashions to choose from. Collectors rushed to get their orders in before editions as high as 1,500 sold out overnight. The stock market was up, times were good, and money was flowing. Of course, that was before we were all laid off in 2008.
That said, this line does see a return to the venerable House of Wentworth, although Tyler, Sydney, Esme, and friends appear to have faded into the annals of fashion doll history. Yesterday we were re-introduced to Marley Wentworth, Tyler’s all-grown-up sister. She has a strong angular profile and a colorful sense of fashion. One basic, two outfits, and three dressed dolls are being offered. I must admit that my first reaction to Marley’s sculpt was “What the hell pissed HER off?” She has a stern expression, with eyes set wide apart and lips that appear slightly pursed. But my reaction to new sculpts is often unfavorable at first–even with sculpts that I end up adoring. Even Sydney rubbed me the wrong way in the beginning. And now I have about 60 of her.
Rose Rouge Marley Wentworth
So I revisited the images of Marley throughout the day, and she did grow on me a bit. It does appear that this doll is still early in the manufacturing stage, as the sculpts appear a bit inconsistent. We probably won’t have a truly accurate representation of her until she is in stock.
Marley bears no resemblance to her 12-year-old self, but that matters little to me. Out of the four fashions pictured, two really appeal to me. My personal fashion taste favors bright, bold colors, and Marley seems to share the same aesthetic. “Skyline Blue” is a bold dress-and-skirt sleeveless ensemble that is a new, refreshing take on Tyler’s classic outfits. “Rose Rouge” has a colorful ’50s vibe with its full circle skirt and contrasting colors. On the other hand, I could do without the gowned doll “Positive Negative.” Other than its nod to No. 1 Barbie, I see nothing new or innovative–just a tired old one-shouldered gown. “Cool Chic” also does nothing for me. It seems recycled from past Cami designs, although it’s hard to really tell without being able to see what is underneath the coat.
My biggest problem with the Marley line is that it is presented in a vacuum. Clearly, these dolls are meant to be characters in an ongoing narrative–only, the narrative is conspicuously absent. There are plenty collectors who discovered Tonner’s dolls after the reign of the House of Wentworth. Who is Marley to them? Without a backstory, she’s some new doll with a weird name. I can’t understand why a company that goes to such pains to give backstories to some of its characters (Deja Vu came with her own book! Ellowyne keeps a diary!) completely ignores this vital element in other lines. I recall the days of Tonner’s portfolios, neat little booklets tucked into each doll box, describing and giving a backstory to each character and fashion. I understand that such little touches may no longer be economically feasible in today’s market, but how difficult would it be to write a little vignette on the website, filling us in on what Marley has been up to during the past ten years?
I can’t make the same complaint about Tonner’s most recent “Re-imagination” line, an enchanting reimagining of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Although this line is not to my personal taste, I certainly appreciate the artistry and creativity that went into it. Casting Alice as a male character with Lewis Carol’s given name is very imaginative, and the new Mad Hatter and White Rabbit are colorful and expressive. Sometimes I think that Robert Tonner is at his artistic best when conceiving and executing Re-imagination characters. One doll that I do possess from this line is “Sheehee,” a half-man/half-woman in the Sinister Circus. I love the playfulness of this doll, and it is executed flawlessly.
Charlie Dodgson
Haddy Madigan (The Mad Hatter)
Bianca Lapin (The White Rabbit)
Tweedle DeDe
Sheehee
So that’s my take on the fashion portion of Tonner’s 2015 Mainline Release. I anticipate purchasing Skyline Blue Marley and perhaps Haddy Madigan. Take a look for yourself and see what appeals most to you. I’d love to hear your feedback!
Vintage Tea Ellowyne
What are YOU looking at?
Doll Therapy 