I love dolls. Don’t get me wrong, but today I had an experience that suggests to me that perhaps I’m not cut out for doll play like I was as a child. I had to change a doll’s full outfit for a photo shoot, and it was a painstaking and, at times, emotionally traumatizing process. Taking off tights, shoes, jacket, skirt, shirt, underwear, tie and wig wasn’t too bad but then I had to change feet, and here’s where the emotional part comes in.

First I gently tugged on the feet … nothing. Then I started twisting them, thinking maybe “lefty-loosy, righty-tighty” was the key here. Still nothing. Then I pulled quite heartily. Again nothing. Panic ensued and I resorted to reading directions which indicated “pulling down” was indeed the right method. Bracing myself, I pulled with all my might and finally the foot plucked out, the doll’s body recoiling and its head snapping to the side. Wow … for a minute there I thought the doll would break. There’s something inherently disturbing to this newbie about yanking a body part off of a form that bears a human likeness.

After popping new feet in, re-dressing began. From the snug undergarments that very reluctantly slid over the doll’s thighs (I was dreading a co-worker would walk in at that moment) to the jacket arm that kept getting hung up on the doll’s thumb, I finally completed my mission 30 minutes later. Let’s just say improving my patience level has been on my self-improvement checklist, and after today, I think I’m off to a good start!