We, at Poppalina, are inordinately fond of our collection of Indian action figures. Of the myriad things we love about India, their enthusiam for producing doll versions of famous people is right up there in our top ten.
For example, Cabinet Minister for Railways, Laloo Prasad. Show me the person who came up with this idea, so I can shake their hand. How come we don't make action figures of our pollies? Consider, for a moment, the fun that could be had with a Tony Abbott doll and a handful of long, sharp pins.
Kajol, minus the monobrow, which is a bit of a shame, it being her trademark, and one of the things we love about her. If it wasn't for the Famous Green Salwar Kameez, and the fact that she's holding her doll in the photo, we might not have recognised her.
And our personal favourite, Sharukh Khan, the dishiest dude in Indian cinema. This doll was hard to come by, let me tell you,
Personally, I think grown women who collect dolls are a bit spooky, and probably have issues relating to incidents from their childhood. It could be argued that wanting a barbie so badly as a child and then not EVER getting one might leave you bitter, twisted, and prone to bizarre latex sex romps.
Or not. I received a gift from a most lovely woman, yesterday, whilst shopping in a very groovy little kids' shop in Yarraville.
When I unwrapped it at home later, I laughed. Then I cried. And then I laughed some more. I couldn't believe my eyes.
I'm going to be 44 next January. My hair is turning white, and every time I look in the mirror, I am reminded that not only is it all downhill from here, but that it probably has been for the last 15 years or so.
But do I care?
Because I've finally got my very own Barbie, mate.
Isn't she beautiful?
I feel whole. Fulfilled.
And Jenny Kiely is so totally my New Best Friend.