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It’s one of the
oldest stereotypes in the book: Little boys who play with dolls are
homosexuals in training. In my own unscientific polling, I’ve talked
to plenty of gay men who rarely if ever dressed up a Barbie during their
childhood. Those who did dabble in dolls were more likely to have had a
sister or two in the house, or a female friend with a dazzling doll
collection. My own bias tells me that, because gay people tend to be
creative, as children we’ll play with any toy that allows our
imaginations to engage in make-believe scenarios. I loved my electric
train because I could pretend to be king of an entire town I built
around it with plastic bricks and toy cars. (At the time, my parents
thought I might become an architect or city planner. But I also liked to
make little magazines with cut-out pictures and stories written in
crayon, and that playtime activity was eventually more influential.)
Ultimately, whether dreaming up a stylish tea party for Barbie and Ken
or using Mister Microphone to star in a self-produced musical revue, gay
kids simply love toys that inspire ingenuity.
Of course, the same can be said for many
kids who turn out to be heterosexual. And that’s the point: The toys
we choose to play with as children say more about our creativity than
our sexuality. At least until we grow up.
I was never particularly interested in
dolls until I turned 30. That’s the year in the late 1970s when Gay
Bob burst onto the scene. The world’s first “anatomically correct”
male doll, Bob’s box was a closet that opened to allow him to “come
out.” When I gave John a Gay Bob for Christmas back then, we finally
found a doll that was fun to play with. When we unzipped his tight
fitting jeans, there was actually something to admire.
John and I so much enjoyed our Bob that
we began to seek out other gay dolls.
Unfortunately, there weren’t any. Well,
except for character dolls of gay or seemingly gay entertainers There
were some wonderful Liberace dolls on the market, and we found a cloth
doll of comedian Flip Wilson’s wickedly irritable drag queen,
Geraldine. Then came Pee-Wee Herman, a character almost too flamboyant
for his own good. Pee-wee’s creator, Paul Reubens, became a masterful
marketer, licensing scores of dolls and related toys in his
character’s image, as well as the other denizens of his Playhouse,
including Cowboy Curtis and ever-so gay muscleman Ricardo. John and I
simply had to have them all.
Pee-Wee seemed to open the flood gates,
and our collection of “queer dolls” soon demanded its own closet,
which we converted into a lighted display room. After the band Culture
Club broke onto the scene, we had to acquire both the 12- and 18-inch
variations of the official Boy George doll (“ages four and up,”
their boxes proclaimed. Finally, a gay doll for children!) Appropriately
Boy George was “fully poseable” (strike one!) and boasted “long
styleable hair” beneath his top hat. Not that you could do much with
those ratty red dreadlocks.
As the cast of characters grew, we began
to take a few liberties in defining who should be allowed into our
closet. The Urkel doll from the sitcom Family Matters was outrageous
enough to be admitted to our culture club, as was Talking Ed Grimley,
based on Martin Short’s character on Saturday Night Live. The goofy
Grimley doll was labeled “The Completely Mental Mis-Adventure.” We
had to add a Michael Jackson doll with its “glittery magic glove,”
and then (for shock value) Brandon and Dylan from Beverly Hills 90210.
Their characters might not have been gay, but they made such a cute
couple, long before Luke Perry bared all on HBO’s current series Oz.
Sometimes, our instincts were ahead of
the times. We added a Rosie O’Donnell doll to the collection years
before she came out of her closet. And we were thrilled when the second
Dennis Rodman to join our family had him wearing a long white bridal
gown.
Clearly, the queer market for dolls
continues to grow. Big Gay Al, the pudgy and sweetly lisping cartoon
character from Comedy Central’s South Park, has his own soft-sculpture
doll, complete with hairy chest and nipples protruding from his open
Hawaiian shirt. And the most popular gay-doll series ever, Billy, and
his date Carlos, are gaining on Barbie in the number of cute outfits
offered.
If you’re looking for a different sort
of holiday gift this year for a different sort of guy or gal, why not a
queer doll? Billy and Carlos are available in many boutiques and
bookstores that target a gay audience. Or, you can search gay dolls on
the Internet, where you’ll also find the “Limited Edition
Collectible Drag Queen” dolls, available in both blond and redhead
editions from a studio called Arsenic and Apple Pie.
For a special present, you might try to
find one of the now vintage gay dolls from the 1970s and 80s.
Occasionally, an original Boy George turns up on e-Bay, as does Gay Bob.
But be prepared to pay the price for such wonderful memorabilia of gay
history. If he has his original box (which adds significantly to his
stature among collectors), Boy George generally goes for upwards of
$150. And the original Gay Bob usually brings home between $250 and
$300. Of course, every man has his price, and good old Bob’s becomes
higher the older he gets.
With Christmas coming, I’m again on the
search for a new friend for John. I’d really like to give him a Bobby
Trendy, the flamboyant and easily agitated interior decorator (or is
that detractor?) on the Anna Nicole show. But, as much of a self-hype
artist as Trendy is (for a gallery of his faux fad furnishings, don’t
miss his Web site:bobbytrendy.com), he doesn’t have a doll in the
marketplace. At least not yet. I’ve already e-mailed him, telling him
to get on the shtick (I mean, stick).
Meanwhile,
whatever tops your holiday wish list this year, I hope you get it—and
that you all have a childlike Christmas and Chanukah season.
Bill
Sievert, a regular contributor to Letters from CAMP Rehoboth, can be
reached at AllfortheCause@aol.com.
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