One person's trash is another person's treasure. One person's art is another person's pr0n.
I am speaking, of course, about the perennial controversy surrounding bras for American Girl dolls.
Yes, they are out there; go look ye on eBay because I can't be assed to post photos. (What? Dare you complain about the lack of photos? Yeah, do that and I'll be forced to post random photos of naked AGPT moderators in retaliation. I guarantee you'll then have nightmares for weeks to come. The mere thought of naked AGPT mods makes me reach for the brain bleach).
Pix or not, I'm here to tell you that the notion of bras for AG dolls incites passions...and not in the way Jiggy's passions are excited, either. Some love the idea, some hate it. Me, I say live and let live. Superior dolls who have lovely lady lumps made of muslin and stuffing need support that is both beautiful and functional to keep our bodacious ta-tas front and center. That's the way of things. Of course, there are the other, lesser dolls in the AG universe who could host a shuffleboard game on their collective chests. Mind you, I'm not naming any names (coughLaniecough). And sooner or later, those flat-chested sisters will bloom, too, with the right combination of injectible illegally-obtained hormones from Jiggy's stash. (Guess we know what else Lanie's been growing in her "pizza garden.")
Suffice to say that there's a wide variety of cleavage and the lack thereof among AG dolls and damn, someone has to meet our needs. Because AG? All they ever crank out are those lame cami and brief sets.
Seriously, I don't get why the concept of doll bras is so scintillating to people. It's not like these are stained doll bras, after all. That is an entirely different wank.
So yeah, enough wanking about AG bras. You really want wank, you bring up the topic of maxi pads for AG dolls to collectors. Yes, yes, people have made them. And yes, yes, much wank ensued at the time. Now admittedly, it's a little harder for me to be sanguine about this topic, seeing as how it only serves to point out the long distances yet to be traveled by my Campaign for Anatomical Correctness. And don't even get me started on the topic of AG tampons. Because really, where the hell would the average AG doll (that excludes me, natch) put a tampon? It's not like she could even tuck it behind her ear, James Dean-old school style, since her ears are welded to her head.
And you know, I hesitated there to bring up the topic of ears because I just know someone will segue to wailing on about Sonali's "blobby ears." OMG fuck the blobby ears, people, seriously! She's just made that way, ALL RIGHT? (See what I did there?)
Sonali is totally fine with her ears, or at least she was until you people started complaining that she was "defective." Seriously, you blobby ear haters are like the Mean Girls of AG fandom. All you're doing is making Sonali self-conscious about her China-factory-given differences when you point and laugh. Leave off. Her ears are FINE, damn it.
The things that incite wank, I'll tell you what, they are mind-boggling. People need to chill or else I'm going to need to slap some tampon artillery on Righteously Bald Undead Yul Brynner and call it a day. That's right, tampon artillery. There is in fact one good use to which AG dolls could put tampons: inciting riots in the name of doll feminism and the Campaign for Anatomical Correctness.
THIS HERE is all you dolls need to start mass panic and maybe even get arrested for home-grown terrorism in your very own backyard. Because screw Lanie discovering the world in her own back yard; it's time for Tampon Wars!
Tampon Wars are the wave of the future in terms of infiltrating meetings of...uhm...okay, who isn't letting women into their exclusive gentlemen clubs these days? The Knights of Columbus? The Shriners? The Boy Scouts? Whatever, just pick one and commence battle. The best part about this concept (aside from the inherent element of surprise associated with an invading army of 18 inch vinyl and muslin dolls armed with tampons, aka the Rise of the Ginger Army as prophesied in the Book of Nellie) is that you get to freak out the men who are squicked at the mere suggestion of menstruation. Seriously, the fact that we sisters bleed from our hoohas on a lunar cycle? Yeah, it grosses them out.
Yo, men, listen up. We deal with this EVERY MONTH, okay? Stop being squeamish about it. It's not like you're involved in the gory parts, anyway...although maybe some of you are, I don't know. I don't judge.
Anyway, I think old boy clubs need more infiltrating. Forget the lady auxiliary branches; we want the real deal. Maybe Sandra Day O'Connor could infiltrate the Supremes on the basis of her superior intelligence and smoking hot body, but it's going to have to be Tampon Wars for the rest of the gentlemen's enclaves.
You need proof of Sandra Day O'Connor's awesomeness? You are pathetic. Feast your loser eyes upon this holiday card that a Playthings member received from Sandy back in the day.
Inspired? Good. Time to gird up.
The future's uncertain and the end is always near. Plus, Target is having a Bogo sale on eco-friendly Tampons this week.