Doll collectors are creepy loners who get along better with their inatimate friends than real people -- or at least that is what many teleivision shows would have people believe.
Just last week while watching Glee (a seriously amusing show) I watched in horror as Sandy, one of the more demented characters, described his doll collection that he has been maintaining since 1961. The dolls, according to Sandy, are his everything. To all of this another character replies (heavy on the sarcasm), "Well isn't this just lovely and normal." And a little later, she notes, "Boy, the only thing missing from this place is a couple dozen bodies limed and rotting in shallow graves under the floor boards."
Well, damn. (For those who want to check out the social damage to doll collectors themselves, the episode of Glee is called "Preggers.")
Of course, I really should not be surprised by this. Television has been milking the dolls-collectors-are-weird-and-therefore-hilarious teat for a long time. Waylon Smithers has been obsessed with dolls -- specifically, Malibu Stacy, a parody of Barbie -- for 20 years on the Simpsons! (He even wrote a musical based on the life of Malibu Stacy called "Sold Separately." Hee!)
Movies are no better: If everyone listened to movies, they'd believe dolls were out to kill them.
I know I hesitate to reveal my collection to people because they make assumptions about me because of it! (The assumptions are more along the line of "doll collectors are weird" and not "your dolls will try to kill me.")
What we need are some positive representations of doll collectors -- or at the very least fewer examples of how we are weird.
Who's That Vanessa?
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