doll baby

on fifth avenue there is a store that defies explanation. it's almost mythical.

American Girl Place.

this is more than a store. it's an experience. it's a documentary waiting to happen.

little girls and their million dollar dolls step through the doors and it's not just that they are catered to as star clientele . . . this is THEIR world. top of the line dolls to buy and befriend line the shelves. boutiques of designer clothes - but not only DOLL clothes. also GIRL clothes to match their dolls. girls can stroll over to the salon to get the american doll's hair and nails done. does it sound like a long day? maybe getting hungry? speak with the prim lady at the imposing doors of the exclusive fine dining room to make a reservation for tea or lunch. mom, girl, and doll each have a seat.

all the while, as these girls with their dolls revel in this magical - if not slightly bizarre - place, a single file line of young women stroll throughout the store - in and out of departments, up and down escalators - chanting and singing American Girl refrains.

who will these little girls become? these little girls who are taken to this store where they buy outfits that match their doll? these little girls that take their doll to a salon to have their hair and nails done? these little girls that make a reservation in an exclusive dining room so they can tea party with their doll baby?

i was the little girl who butchered my own doll's hair with the kitchen shears. i had tea parties on the living room floor with cracked tea cups. tap water was my "tea." ritz crackers were my "biscuits." and the only refrains my doll baby and i had repetitiously playing in the background was Madonna's "Lucky Star."

still . . . i think i turned out ok.