Natasha Saipradist | Brand Strategist


2011


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Walking down a backpacker-riddled street of a small town in Guatemala called Panajachel, the aroma of fried chicken filled the air. Local Mayans frequently approached me with crafty, useless souvenirs. I spotted a street-shop with some familiar-looking dolls laid out on the ground among other colorful craft items. As I got closer, I realized they were Barbie dolls, dressed in colorful handmade Guatemalan/Mayan inspired outfits. They were not spectacularly beautiful; they had dirty faces, destroyed hair, and their dresses were imperfectly embroidered. Despite having Western faces and figures, they looked and seemed to me like real Guatemalans. The shopkeeper quickly approached me and started showing me more of them, all the while telling me what I thought were their names in Spanish. I had plenty of Barbie dolls growing up, and the last time I wanted a Barbie doll was probably when I was 10, but I've never wanted a Barbie doll so badly. I knew I had to have one of these Guatemalan Barbie dolls.

It did not occur to me at the time, but I realize now that the Guatemalan Barbie named Lucia that I purchased is what the cultural anthropologist Grant McCracken refers to as the "bridge" to an ideal location I constantly long to escape to: the fondest years of my childhood. According to McCracken, objects have "displaced meanings" that allow consumers to imagine their lives shifting into one of a more idealized one. Consumers use inanimate objects and purchases to project their ideals and hopes of who they want to be, how they want to be, and where they want to be. I, too, use tangible objects to "bridge" the intangible ideal. I long to transport myself out of the present moment where I am expected to be a responsible, hardworking, and fully capable adult into the happy memories of carefree days where I could make mistakes and the most difficult decision to make was which Barbie to play with and what scenery should the Barbie dolls construct today. My ideal past is a fictional place that lives in my mind. To me, Lucia the Guatemalan Barbie allows me access to the ideal past, even if it is just a small part of it.

Lucia allows me to retreat back into the comfort of my past while also allowing me to project who I want to be in the present and the future. Since she is an imperfect Barbie doll dressed in handmade Guatemalan clothes, Lucia is not an ordinary doll that you get from Toys R' Us; she's much more special and rare. With her dirty cheeks and tangled hair, she feels like a local Guatemalan. Guatemala, to me, is not a typical tourist destination, and by having a "real" Guatemalan Barbie, my ideal present self is reaffirmed-that I think of myself as a cultural traveler and an explorer of road less traveled destinations, not a mainstream tourist. Handpicked by me, Lucia is a personal undiscovered treasure; she offers me meaning that only I can understand. This meaning aligns with my hopes and ideals of my near present and future self as an explorer and acknowledges my way of lifestyle and traveling. The Guatemalan aspect of Lucia helps enlarge my tastes and preferences.

The unpredictability of the future is a terrifying thought to me, and via Lucia, I use my comfortable, familiar past to help construct my future identity and sustain my hopes and dreams. Lucia reminds me that a happy, carefree past once existed, and that if I hold on to these memories, it is possible for me to reconstruct a happier ideal future. My hopes for the future become more familiar and believable. When I was younger, I often tagged along with my mom when she travelled overseas, and what I used to bring with me were some of my favorite toys. Barbie dolls were no exceptions. Thus, I associate Barbie dolls with traveling. With Lucia in my possession, my future as a traveler and an explorer is a safe and happy one.

Although Mattel does not intend to create the displaced meaning I have with Lucia, if an old Barbie can have such a complex meaning to me, I am certainly not the only one who finds meanings in the brand's unintended areas. For many of us, our flea market purchases, while not being the most expensive, can be some of our most favorite objects. Objects that are hunted down, discovered from a rare source, or obtained with difficulties have a special mystique quality to them. We find old, imperfect Barbie dolls sold in flea markets all around the world, and each one of those can take on a different meaning for the consumer who finds it. The harder it is for the consumer to get, the more special and more meaning the doll would most likely have in the mind of the consumer. Thus, they all can be "bridges" to displaced meanings for the particular consumers. For us who are no longer tweens, brand new Mattel toys in Toys R' Us do not act as bridges to our ideals and hopes anymore, but for each individual found hidden Barbie gem, the brand is put in the consumer's mind once again, constructing a whole new context and meaning this time around.