A nod and a note to American Girl dolls

When I was at the ripe age of 12 in the mid 1990’s, I had a little neighbor friend, at whose house I would spend a lot of time.  Her name was Sarah, and she had not just one, but five American Girl dolls.  To me, these were the most beautiful and interesting things I had ever seen. What made them fascinating was that they each had their own set of novels, a six book series that would tell their stories and how it was like to grow up in their particular time period. These dolls had everything: clothes, underwear, food, horses, carriages, prams, book bags…

Since I didn’t have one of my own, I would play with Sarah’s dolls. I had a shock one day when I was brushing the hair of ‘Samantha’ and pulled out her ribbon. She cried out and yanked the doll from my hands and on the verge of tears told me that I ruined her doll, and she would have to send it back to Pleasant Company to have them properly re-do her hair. Ouch. From that moment on, I decided it would be best to persist my mom and dad ceaselessly until I got one of my own, and not have to be punished if I moved the wrong hair out of place. I got the catalogue request card and mailed it in, then waited.

I would drop hints for months, and when my mom didn’t understand why I wanted a doll at the age of 12 I told her flat out that it was more of a doll, but a cross section of history! I pulled out the catalogue and pointed to ‘Felicity’, who was a spirited girl growing up just at the start of the American revolutionary war, and my favorite.

Felicity Merriman

I was about to give up after a few months, but one day my mom gave me a box. I open it up and see it’s from Pleasant Company! But when I took off the top I didn’t have Felicity smiling up at me, but Samantha. I was disappointed, but my mom seemed so proud of her purchase and she beamed “I got you this one because it looks just like you! She has brown hair and bangs and has the fanciest clothes!” I thanked my mom and gave her a hug, because at $100 a doll I knew it was a difficult gift to give.

Over time, I grew to like Samantha and my parents would buy me her accessories and clothes from her part of the catalogue. I learned her story and how she overcame class barriers to befriend a servant girl, and then eventually helped her and had her adopted into her family. My mom never bought me Felicity, even when I asked for her as a Christmas present. She simply said that one was enough. But my mom is the type of person that thinks one Super Nintendo game is enough as well.

There is a happy ending to this story, and also a point. For my birthday this year my husband finally bought me Felicity, 14 years later. I love these dolls. Some people think that they are for kids, but for me they opened up a world of history. They are the reason I love costuming, why I love to sew and create. This my homage to them, and how they made me who I am today.

And Samantha? I found her again in my parent’s attic a few months ago when we were helping them clean. She still looked as pretty as ever, even though I might have to send her back to the Company to have her hair properly fixed.