I’m not one of those women who’s freaked out by genitals, either–I like my vagina–but it strikes me as immodest to hang your junk out for the world to see. It also seems cruel to force the more prudish people out there, the ones who aren’t even comfortable with their own junk, let alone other people’s, to be unexpectedly confronted with a vagina.
“Oh, hey Sally, what’s that necklace your wearing?”
“Oh, it’s a polymer vagina.”
<Swoon>
And I was raised in the SF Bay Area, home of progressive attitudes toward genitalia. So I have to think that there’s some disconnect going on (maybe it’s a result of all the BPAs?) in certain women (and men) that makes them think “art” like this is anything other than unnecessary.
What could it be? Is it a stick figure lady? Is it an apple with arms?
I have never, ever, EVER understood the appeal of Hello Kitty.
Ever.
I mean, look at her. Even as a little girl, I didn’t get it when the preppy girls in my class would ohh and ahh over Hello Kitty erasers and pencils and pencil cases and whatever else they could get their mitts on that had that boring white cat on it.
I liked Garfield. Garfield was sarcastic.
I liked Tom, of Tom and Jerry. He had drive, spunk and a mean streak.
Hello Kitty just sits there.
You know what else I don’t get? Fetuses. I didn’t ohh and ahh over any of my pre-half-time ultrasounds. After 20 weeks I noticed my oldest was sucking his thumb and had feet. I was cool with that.
Oh our menstrual rites of passage. The cramping, the bleeding, the childbearing! But if I could only have a special place to keep track of my menses. With delightful graphics (which are oh so graphic) to remind me what a total pain in the ass my period is!
OH BUT LOOK!
Yes kids, even Princess Leia bleeds. And evidently forgets to wear a tampon. I wonder if there is a reminder in any of these delightful Menstrual Lunar Calendars, which will remind me to run to the drug store and buy supplies?
It does not appear so. But apparently, this girl has some big time bloat going on. Her legs are usually totally proportionate to her feet.
She looks a little pissed. But I guess I am a little grumpy when I overflow all over the floor, too. I guess I’ll just put on my fallopian tube tee shirt and mark this day in my calendar.
Okay, look. I am as pro-baby rock on with your bad self awesome women who shoot fruit from their nether bits as the next girl. But, dudes. I have my limits.
I HAVE MY LIMITS. These dolls, well these dolls are my limit.
Starts all cute, right? Awwwww, preggo doll getting ready to burst forth a life. Then, well, then there was placenta. See, what happened there was when the placenta, even though it’s just red felt, showed up I heard a loud buzzing and felt a pop. Then I went blind and lost all control of my bladder. So, I am pretty sure that I have suffered a major doll-placenta related stroke.
I went blind before I could even see the snap nipples or to fully comprehend the $130 price tag. Then something started leaking out of my ear at the thought of stuffing that little baby doll back up into the mama doll to relive the birthing experience.
