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So being out of work for a month, and waiting for unemployment to kick in (whole 'nuther story), I decided to sell my Barbie doll collection.
Those of you who ever came to visit when I lived on Moody may remember my extensive display of collector Barbies, mostly in elaborate gowns, still pristine in boxes. I''m not talking about those dolls, they were sold off when we moved 5 years ago.
No, I am talking about the incredible collection of Barbies I played with from the age of about 6 until I was 16--pretty much Barbie's heyday from 1962 to 1972. My mother had a weakness for the incredible variety of the dolls and detail of the outfits, and as a result I had wayyy more Barbie stuff than one girl ever needed--but I loved them. My best friend and I played out "Man from U.N.C.L.E." and "Star Trek" scenarios by the hour. (We turned one doll clothes trunk into the bridge of our own starship, complete with tiny boxes for computer consoles and a viewscreen with a variety of hand-drawn space and planet scenes. Oddly, every planet that our crew beamed down to had a ratio of 7 girl dolls to one boy doll...) I was somewhat compulsive about organizing my collection, and used Weiboldt and Marshall Fields shirtboxes to hold the clothes separated by type--one box for shirts and skirts, one box for all the shoes, one box for hats and purses and gloves, 4 boxes for ball gowns, one box for the Ken clothes...
When Sarah was about 3, I made the mistake of going to my first and only Barbie doll convention, and saw all the outfits and dolls that I had played with sealed in plastic bags and selling for $25 or more per outfit! Unfortunately I decided that my dolls were 'too valuable' to let my kids play with them, so they were lovingly packed away in 2 of the biggest size Rubbermaid tubs, to be taken out and 'looked at' for a special occasion or to be put up for holiday display. (At Christmas my girls and I would dress up a mix of their Barbies and my Barbies decorating the tree, or caroling, or building a snowman. There was always a nursing mother somewhere in the display.)
Flash forward to this week, where I pull out the department store shirt boxes and look through all the pieces, putting together the outfit and accessories for some of the 'classic' Barbie outfits, remembering all the dolls' names (they had to be renamed, of course, you couldn't have 20 dolls with the same name,) and setting aside a few favorites that I couldn't part with. (Full disclosure: okay, more than a few. Like a bankers' box of dolls and clothes. But I might have to put up the 'Barbie-family-opening presents-on-Christmas-Eve' scene for my grandkids someday.)
Still, I had a tub-and-a-half of Barbie stuff to take to the local doll store, Gigi's Dolls and Sherry's Teddy Bears. Most amazing store for a doll-lover to browse, the girls and I used to go and drool over the mix of new porcelein designer dolls and 'play dolls' from the 1920s to present. (My kids got to the point where they would roll their eyes each time I exclaimed, "I had that doll!") Knowing that the store had a vintage collection of Barbies comparable to mine, I made an appointment to show the dolls to Sherry on Monday.
I set out the collection of shirt boxes which I had arranged with some particularly nice pieces on top, and when Sherry asked how much I wanted I said $225, based on my internet research. She said okay, got cash from the register, and thanked me for bringing my collection in. I had a thought that she agreed without bargaining so I probably could have gotten more, but I was honestly happy to have $225 more than when I went.
Wednesday's mail brought an envelope from the store. Puzzled, I opened it up and a check falls out with the following note: "Thank you so very much for bringing in your Barbie collection. Here's a bit more towards it. I will have fun sorting thru and playing with everything. Thank you and best of luck with finding a new job. Sherry"
The check was for $200!!!!
She sure as heck didn't have to do that--what an incredibly honorable person!
Now doesn't this story make you feel good about the human race?
If you ever have a desire to see this awesome store, or need to buy a special doll, Gigi's Dolls is at 6029 Northwest Highway in Chicago (near Harlem and Devon.) They have a website too: http://www.gigisdolls.com/
Those of you who ever came to visit when I lived on Moody may remember my extensive display of collector Barbies, mostly in elaborate gowns, still pristine in boxes. I''m not talking about those dolls, they were sold off when we moved 5 years ago.
No, I am talking about the incredible collection of Barbies I played with from the age of about 6 until I was 16--pretty much Barbie's heyday from 1962 to 1972. My mother had a weakness for the incredible variety of the dolls and detail of the outfits, and as a result I had wayyy more Barbie stuff than one girl ever needed--but I loved them. My best friend and I played out "Man from U.N.C.L.E." and "Star Trek" scenarios by the hour. (We turned one doll clothes trunk into the bridge of our own starship, complete with tiny boxes for computer consoles and a viewscreen with a variety of hand-drawn space and planet scenes. Oddly, every planet that our crew beamed down to had a ratio of 7 girl dolls to one boy doll...) I was somewhat compulsive about organizing my collection, and used Weiboldt and Marshall Fields shirtboxes to hold the clothes separated by type--one box for shirts and skirts, one box for all the shoes, one box for hats and purses and gloves, 4 boxes for ball gowns, one box for the Ken clothes...
When Sarah was about 3, I made the mistake of going to my first and only Barbie doll convention, and saw all the outfits and dolls that I had played with sealed in plastic bags and selling for $25 or more per outfit! Unfortunately I decided that my dolls were 'too valuable' to let my kids play with them, so they were lovingly packed away in 2 of the biggest size Rubbermaid tubs, to be taken out and 'looked at' for a special occasion or to be put up for holiday display. (At Christmas my girls and I would dress up a mix of their Barbies and my Barbies decorating the tree, or caroling, or building a snowman. There was always a nursing mother somewhere in the display.)
Flash forward to this week, where I pull out the department store shirt boxes and look through all the pieces, putting together the outfit and accessories for some of the 'classic' Barbie outfits, remembering all the dolls' names (they had to be renamed, of course, you couldn't have 20 dolls with the same name,) and setting aside a few favorites that I couldn't part with. (Full disclosure: okay, more than a few. Like a bankers' box of dolls and clothes. But I might have to put up the 'Barbie-family-opening presents-on-Christmas-Eve' scene for my grandkids someday.)
Still, I had a tub-and-a-half of Barbie stuff to take to the local doll store, Gigi's Dolls and Sherry's Teddy Bears. Most amazing store for a doll-lover to browse, the girls and I used to go and drool over the mix of new porcelein designer dolls and 'play dolls' from the 1920s to present. (My kids got to the point where they would roll their eyes each time I exclaimed, "I had that doll!") Knowing that the store had a vintage collection of Barbies comparable to mine, I made an appointment to show the dolls to Sherry on Monday.
I set out the collection of shirt boxes which I had arranged with some particularly nice pieces on top, and when Sherry asked how much I wanted I said $225, based on my internet research. She said okay, got cash from the register, and thanked me for bringing my collection in. I had a thought that she agreed without bargaining so I probably could have gotten more, but I was honestly happy to have $225 more than when I went.
Wednesday's mail brought an envelope from the store. Puzzled, I opened it up and a check falls out with the following note: "Thank you so very much for bringing in your Barbie collection. Here's a bit more towards it. I will have fun sorting thru and playing with everything. Thank you and best of luck with finding a new job. Sherry"
The check was for $200!!!!
She sure as heck didn't have to do that--what an incredibly honorable person!
Now doesn't this story make you feel good about the human race?
If you ever have a desire to see this awesome store, or need to buy a special doll, Gigi's Dolls is at 6029 Northwest Highway in Chicago (near Harlem and Devon.) They have a website too: http://www.gigisdolls.com/
