As I said in my last installment, my 15^th year is when I have the most memories of having Barbie in my life. Saving every scrap of money so that I could sneak to the Western Auto (remember those?) to stare in awe at the vast array of toys. In my small town, the Western Auto and the Variety Store were the two biggest businesses. If I went back to the Variety Store now, I’m sure I’d see some stock still on the shelves (the owners do not believe in clearance). Alas, the Western Auto went out of business shortly after I turned 16.

On one such visit to the WA, I was a little disillusioned. On the shelves were the same old dolls, which I already owned. My usual mode of operation was to select two or three things and then wrestle with myself on which one would be the best to buy. It seemed that on this visit, I was to be disappointed. Luck was with me, though. Just as I was about to leave and go to the dreaded Variety Store (the owners hated kids), one of the workers crashed through the stockroom doors with new toy stock. Hallelujah! I was present for this momentous occasion for once!

From that day forward, Angel Face ruled my little doll kingdom. She was everything I saw for my future. Believe it or not, even boys could project THEIR dreams on Barbie. At that time, she was a singer, an actress, a businesswoman, had the car, had the guy (Dream Date Ken left Dream Date Barbie for her), and had the pick of the small wardrobe. When she sang, she was kind of punk, her hair do inspired by Madonna (of course) and Cyndi Lauper (no cutting, though).

Now for the tragic part: Whatever happened to her? Well, the story isn’t too pretty. In a fit of maleness, she was one of several dolls that were secretly thrown away. This is a move that was repeated at least twice in the coming years. The shame and guilt of trying to stay a kid usually got the best of me, causing me to do terrible things in a fit of adulthood. It’s only within the last six years that I gave in to my inner child and stuck to my guns with my dolls.

About four years ago, I went to my first doll show in Florida, where I was living at the time. There was a group of five of us members from the "Sunshine State Doll Club" that attended. I went with very little money to insure that I did not go overboard. Boy, was that a BIG mistake. I saw everything I wanted, old and new. Walking with my friend, Jennifer, we were overloaded. As we passed all of the tables, we drooled and hyperventilated to beat the band. Jennifer had been to these things before, so she was kind of a pro. I was an amateur. Then, out of the blue, I saw her. Sitting on a table that we were about to get to (in a box, no less). The whole club knew that she was a doll I wanted. I had written a similar article about my search for her. Jennifer and I stopped and looked at her for about five minutes. Twenty dollars! Yikes! I had only brought lunch money. With a heavy heart, I put her back and walked away. The rest of the doll show was pretty dull. I went off by myself to stew over my loss. Jennifer had been eyeing a vintage doll at another table and decided to go and bargain.

After moping around for some time, I found Jennifer and she asked me if I really wanted the doll. What a silly question! She offered to buy it for me in exchange for my making a gown for her (I had just gotten into metal mesh dresses and had some mesh left over). Jennifer has always been a pretty generous friend, and I took her up on her offer. Finally, Angel Face had come home!

The Angel Face Barbie is now the center of my small collection. I still have her in the box, but she comes out every once and awhile to entertain me. I had once stated that I would trade my whole collection for this one doll. If I didn’t have her, it would still stand today. In a fire, I know which doll is going out the door with me (after the cats and my partner, of course).