American Pilgrimmage

With BlogHer Business ending the night before, I felt a bit aimless Saturday morning, as I woke up, alarm free, in my NY hotel room. I felt groggy--is this what it feels like to have nothing to do on a Saturday morning?

I had decided to stay in NY over the weekend, because I have meetings on the East Coast this week. Julie, my sister who lives in NJ, had a wonderful suggestion. Her daughter--my niece--Bella has become enamored with the concept of tea parties, and Julie thought it was time to "do tea".

"Where are you thinking, Julie, the Plaza?"

"Don't think she'd appreciate the Plaza, but there was this place that the women on Housewives of New York went to with their daughters that I think would be perfect."

I thought, not anymore it's not.

And there was one other thing, Julie said, that we'd have to do. She'd been thinking about doing this for some time, but she wasn't sure Bella was ready. Now, she thought, it was time to make the trip. To Little Girl Mecca. The American Doll Store in Midtown.

A doll store, in Midtown?

"Jor, you have no idea," Julie said. "I see moms on the train when I commute in for work with their daughters, having left the American Girl store. This isn't an afterthought. This is a trip to be planned." Julie lamented that she wasn't prepared to spend a buttload on a doll and accessories just yet, but she'd made it clear to Bella that she could look and pick out what she'd want for her birthday in July.

This was an advantageous situation, Julie said, especially since she hadn't made a hair appointment--for the doll, that is--and it took months to get one.

We entered the store not knowing where to begin; Julie and I simply followed Bella from display to display, ogling doll outfits and doll pets. Julie glanced at the price for Coconut the little dog.

"Criminy. If we can get outta here for under $500 ... Bella, hun, for your birthday, OK?'

We wandered to the in-store doll hair salon, where dolls were placed in salon chairs, draped with a smock around their three-inch shoulders and then done up by human professionals. These women worked furiously--spraying, teasing, curling, trimming--and occasionally explaining to the dolls' owners what they were doing.

I turned to Julie, "Is it me, or are these dolls not even that cute?"

"Doesn't matter," Julie said. "Just wait."

We browsed the doll outfits, which were accompanied by identical, human girl outfits.

"You want to match your doll," Julie explained. I realized how brilliant this manufacturer was, perpetuating the razor/razorblade business model of ongoing revenue stream by creating more incremental sales opportunities.

I looked hesitatingly at the second floor escalator. Bella had beaten us there and made our ascent a foregone conclusion. At the Mezzanine Level we encountered the doll "Hospital". I can only imagine that this was a clever way of accepting exchanges for faulty merchandise or fixing broken girl parts.

On the second floor were rather engaging displays of the "character" American Girls--one for each American era. For example, there was Kaya, and American Indian girl, from the 1860s; there was Molly, from the 1940s. Bella's favorite was Julie (her mother's name, which is likely why she kept calling the doll Juliana), from 1974.

"I just love the period ones," Julie said, trying to get Bella to look at the 1904 doll. But Bella was determined to stick to Juli(ana).

"Here's the one, Mama," she said. She had the presence of mind to take a spare catalogue, so that she could further research her preference.

The third floor featured American Girl babies, including twins, which I thought was particularly brilliant of the manufacturer: now you can sell two identical dolls at once. I wondered if they had triplets.

We stopped briefly in front of the American Girl Theater. This was where real humans played the dolls. For SAG credit, I wondered? The sign outside the theater read: No food or drink allowed inside the theater, for both real people and doll people.

We stole looks into the accompanying cafe. Again, we'd missed the sit-down times and were told we had to make a reservation. Julie cursed herself a few times, and I reminded her that she was still a good mother. We stole a look into the cafe. At every table there sat a girl, her mother, and in a small booster chair, her doll. The ultimate mother-daughter-plastic-daughter bonding experience.

"Don't worry, Bella. Next time Mommy will call in advance," Julie said.

Though Bella is only four and a half. She had no problem asking for what I couldn't ask for until I was 35: a taxi.

"My feet hurt Mama! I wanna taxi!"

Finally I hailed one and we made our way up to the Upper West Side, to the tiny, charming cafe Julie had seen on Housewives just a week earlier, Alice's Teacup.

There was a 90-minute to two-hour wait.

The hostess had a heart, "Would you like some pixie dust while you wait?" she said to Bella. Bella nodded and then was asked to close her eyes while glitter was sprinkled on her head.

"Make a wish!" the hostess said. "Now shake your head!" Bella marvelled at the shimmery dandruff that fell to the floor.

"I don't think we can wait that long," Julie said.

"But Mama," Bella said. "Don't you want my wish to come true!"

Yes, Mama said, eyeing the pastries at the cash register and picking some for takeout. But we would be taking this wish to go.

Comments

[Joy]

Oh....the only thing missing was Grandma! You may have walked my legs off...literallly, but what a great time I would have had just watching Bella's face. I suppose Julie forgot to take her camera, right? I need pictures. What a wonderful day for you 'ladies.' I'm so glad you were able to go on this outing Jor....and I know Bella was. Love, Mom

[Denise]

LOLOLOLOL I can just see you in the American Girl store, Jory. hahahaha

Love it.

And no, the dolls aren't that cute - but girls love them anyway. Marketing genius. Blah.

[crockpot lady]

we get the doll porn catalog in the mail--my 3 and 6 year olds carry it everywhere, sleep with it, etc. We haven't bought anything --thus far the dolls from Target are okay--but my mom has the trip all planned out in her head.

crazy.
-steph

[tre]

hey jory, we met in chicago at blogher 07..your mom and i met online about a week before...i was new to all of this..still really am...kinda took a hiatus from blogging but am back to it at long last..will see you in san fran..sooo loved this story. my goodness how my heart goes out to you and your sis...your sis doing the dutiful mom thing and you realizing so much goes into the mom thing that you don't always think about....i hear you....you get kudos for trying to do the good auntie thing :) tho.....and surely now you'll have something to chew on...why do we want our daughters to play w/ these dolls anyway? do they really represent that global girl/woman image we want little girls to grow up with? :)
yet guess who had the biggest barbie doll collection in the neighborhood? (and yet i've sworn if i ever have a daughter we are not buying them!...talk to me when i'm a mom). :)

hugs for all you do for women and for blogher...see you soon, tre ;)

[pam]

Hi Jor - I want to thank you for this post. I've been curious about the American Girl, but I'd never have had the stamina to go, take my daughter, and then stave off the urge to drop hundreds of dollars on dolls and accessories. I have never purchased an American Girl doll, though my daughter would receive their catalogs sometimes. (How did they know? How?) My daughter liked American Girl in theory, but never was a doll person and so did not want to put in the effort to persuade me to buy in. (OTOH, she IS a fanatic for stuffed animals, so the Build-A-Bear Workshop has seen my credit card on many occasions.)