From the time you are little, you very clearly realize that mammals find mates. And even if you were like me, who didn’t pay any attention to my second grade teacher Mrs. Davenport’s PowerPoint on the many different types of species and accidentally presented on “Asses” (the donkey, okay?), you at least knew your Barbie often came with this weird other doll with short hair and no “lumps” up top. You knew that was Barbie’s literal “boy toy” ever since you got him. And then you’d invite that one girl with all the older siblings over, Catie or whatever, and she’d make them make out and lie on top of each other. No? That didn’t happen to anyone else? Okay, cool me neither…. Anyway, you knew Barbie and hairless-chest Ken went together. So you grow up and you see all these boys with girls and girls with boys holding hands and sucking face and you put the concept together. All these girls have their respective boys. My 9-year-old self was like, “Okay, cool, all I gotta do is find one of these Kens and then do whatever that thing was with their mouths, and then boom we’re together, we have real jobs and babies. Easy.”
Fast forward to the present: I am sitting on my couch, a jar of Nutella with a spoon in it sits next to me, a pile of Accounting homework is sprawled out on the table, and re-runs of "Sex and the City" play in the background (yes, it’s basic; no, I don’t care). And I’m honestly sitting here right now thinking, “I really had a plan when I was 9. Like where the hell is my Ken? And when he shows up he’s totally gonna have a dad bod.” We are groomed from an early age to seek out a companion, right? Well, recently I had the earth-shattering discovery that I had been called (by someone of the opposite sex) “un-dateable.” Yes, the one word you dread from childhood, from the time you have a Ken to your Barbie. Alas, it seemed my dad-bod-ed, hairy-chested Ken would never arrive.
But then I remembered something really great. Barbie had a ton of friends. And after that lustful Catie girl left the sleepover, no one even played with Ken anyway! I realized that Barbie was pretty great at being an independent woman, too. Plus, she can be whatever she wants, blah blah blah. (If you’re my age then you totally saw that Disney movie "Lifesize" with Tyra Banks, so you already know all this stuff.) Okay so here’s my point: Ken doesn’t make Barbie; Barbie makes Ken. I would never give up nights of watching my friends singing the “Ignition Remix” really off-key at bars with all my Barbie friends. I would never give up a “me” night for Ken. Barbie doesn’t give up her independence for Ken, ladies. Remember that.
In conclusion, yes, I am completely un-dateable. I’m not going to make you a sandwich or skip my Zumba class to hang out with you. I will not drop everything for a man who won’t even put the controller down for me. I’m currently a Ken-less Barbie. Maybe I’ll be a Ken-less Barbie forever! But I won’t sit back and wait for Ken to come waltzing in with a receding hair line and a super cool red corvette he got from his mid-mid-life crisis. If you need me until then I’ll be out with my friends, studying for a career that I cannot wait to start or doing some other super important Barbie stuff.
So next time, before you feel down on yourself for being Ken-less, remember that Barbie is an icon. She is a strong, independent, free-spirited woman. She can do anything; she can go anywhere. She shines bright, shines far, she's a star (yes, these are "Lifesize" lyrics). Boys these days may even deem her un-dateable. *shrugs* *flips hair* *drops mic*
