Let me ask you this: What do we teach our daughters When the bestselling doll on the market, Barbie, Has a made-up face and mascara-ed eyes and lips as pink as grapefruit, But not enough ambition or intelligence to calculate her net worth? What do I tell my daughter when we pass through Toys-R-Us And she wants that artificial décolletage in a box, This trickery, chicanery of Mattel who fashioned this doll, this plastic piece of shit With a serial number lingering on her lower back like a tramp stamp Above slim thighs which gap and disproportionate legs, Legs, I tell her, that would snap beneath Barbie’s weight if she were real That would make her fall at the slightest step, Only for the purpose of mass-production and consumerism which says it values women for their appearance, and never their qualities.
Perhaps that is what they want—for our daughters to remain unsteady, unstable on their feet in a lack of conviction for who they are and what they want Because a woman who knows what she wants is powerful and feared above all. Remember that, my child.
What do I say to her when all around is advertising that reduces women down to things and faces meant to be photoshopped. Mattel, take back this sham of a girl, Whose smiles beg for men’s attention and whose lack of ambition shames us, This farce does not fool us. It will never, ever, fool our daughters Because we will tell them the truth. Let me answer the question I raise before you: What do we teach our daughters? What do we tell them? You are more than that. Not a Eurocentric ideal of beauty, yellow fever, fetish You are no plastic ideal in a box. Born of strength, tenacity, courage and blood, Of spitfire and entitlement, Beyond factory 221 and serial number 25789452-00-07 You are of your own means, Of your own self.
More articles in WMC FBomb by Category: Arts and culture, Body image and body standards, Feminism, Media
More articles in WMC FBomb by Tag: Activism and advocacy, Gender bias, Poetry, High school