Anyone who has a daughter in the U.S. probably knows about American Girl, the company that manufactures a very wide range of dolls, accessories, books, videos, and all sorts of stuff to celebrate girlhood and at least allegedly offer a positive set of images for girls to emulate. American Girl is also responsible for bringing the Angelina Ballerina series to American audiences (the original book series became a hit overnight, and inspired a series broadcast on PBS; American Girl is responsible for producing the books based on the television series).
American Girl is also a “Place” – there are two locations currently, in New York and Chicago, and one is coming soon to Los Angeles. There, one can go see a live show, written by Broadway playwrights, based on the American Girl characters. Your daughter can also take her doll to the hair salon! After getting her hair done, the doll is ready to take pictures at the photo studio; your girl can pose with her doll and get to keep a souvenir edition of American Girl magazine featuring her picture on the cover. There’s a museum where girls can explore the historical settings of the American Girl characters. The centerpiece is the café, where girl and doll can be treated to brunch, or tea, or special dinners – birthday parties are also available (at two different price levels). And of course, there’s a shop for all kinds of stuff. And this is the whole crux of the matter for me.
I’m not going to get into the issues of what kind of American girlhood is being represented here. There’s so much stuff and we’ve only scratched the surface in our house. There are things I like about those representations and things I don’t. I just want to talk about the very idea of consumerism that’s behind it, that makes American Girl not all that different from other consumer products aimed at girls, like Barbie or Disney Princesses.
My sister-in-law bought my oldest an American Girl set for her fifth birthday. And to watch my wife’s friends see this package was a revelation to me. The doll was Marisol, a Latina who loves dance, and the package was incredible: dance outfits, leotards, leg warmers, headgear, clips, a hat, hangers for the outfits, a little gym bag with a pretend water bottle and granola bar, ballerina slippers, tap shoes, and at least two other kinds of footwear, a toy cell phone with a working clock, a toy boom box, jewelry, stickers an incredible package. The shock and awe (pardon the expression) and even envy was palpable. I don’t know if any of these women ever got stuff for themselves like this, let alone got stuff for a doll like this. It was truly overwhelming. My daughter loved it all, and has taken reasonably good care of it.
In addition to the stuff, there came a book which tells Marisol’s story. It’s written by poet Gary Soto, and it’s really good. I read it to my daughter every night until we finished, and in fact one night halfway through I went ahead and read it all the way through just to know what happened, because I got so engrossed in the story. She’s a great character with a lot of interesting ideas, and the story is well-written.
All the same, despite Marisol’s character, that nagging sense of consumerism remains an essential part of the American Girl experience. Above all else, the American girl is a shopper. She buys stuff. Whatever other inspiring lessons one gets reading these stories, the underlying lesson is: you are what you buy. And clothes make the girl. That concerns me as I try to raise two daughters to be leery of that which only looks good.
Of course, I still may take her on a dad-daughter night in the city: dinner and a show at American Girl Place. I need more time to let all this stuff sink in!