The Gerwig Affect: A 23 year old Woman's Experience at Barbie (2023)

 In 2002, the enchanting Mermaid Fantasy Barbie doll made her debut, capturing the hearts of children around the globe. With her bright pink hair and mesmerizing blue tail, she brought an aura of magic to playtime. Mattel's creativity didn't stop there, as they introduced alluring variants of Mermaid Fantasy Barbie, boasting captivating orange or brown hair and tails in equally enticing hues. For my older sister and me, the little plastic kiddie pool in our backyard became the gateway to a world of boundless imagination. Our imaginations ran from literally copying the plot of the little mermaid to a story entirely of our imaginations… mostly hers as I was three and just went with whatever she said. Regardless of the plot, Barbie played a monumental role in shaping my childhood, and the bond with my sister grew stronger as we shared those cherished hours together. 

The First View

As time whisked me away from those carefree days, I found myself at 23 years old, stepping into a theater with a heart brimming with nostalgia. The sight of a sea of pink and sequins and the laughter of little girls playing with their very own Mermaid Fantasy Barbie filled me with excitement. The legacy of Barbie and the cherished moments she created with siblings extended far beyond my own experiences, touching the lives of countless young girls who, like me, reveled in the joy of sisterly play and the magic of imagination. Barbie became not just a doll but a symbol of connection and shared delight that transcended generations.

Seeing a group of Barbies and Kens taking pictures with the movie poster, I couldn't help but smile at their excitement. As the theater lights dimmed, I settled into my seat, anticipating the nostalgic journey that awaited. But my curiosity about the empty row behind me persisted. Just as I began to wonder if something had gone awry, a burst of laughter, chatter, and pink filed into the row.

As the movie began, the theater echoed with bursts of laughter and whispers of recognition, as scenes from the film transported us back to cherished memories of playing with our beloved Barbies. Then, an unexpected twist of emotions, and I found myself crying. Crying for myself but also crying for the women surrounding me. The strangers I felt now connected to for the simple fact of being a woman. The row of women behind me were now the little girls I sat with on the playroom floor, the girl in front of me was now my friend from my high school volleyball team that always braided my hair, and the woman to the far right became my older sister consoling me after a hard break-up. 

After the credits rolled and the lights came back on, the theater echoed with chatter as we all relished in the magic we had just witnessed. Strangers became friends, exchanging stories of their favorite Barbie adventures and how the iconic doll had impacted their lives. 

Walking to the car, I realized the movie was so emotional that I barely remembered it. I had to see it again.

The Second View

This time was different; it was a sunny day in the middle of July, and the theater was abuzz with moms bringing their young daughters to witness the magic. As I entered the auditorium, I noticed a mom and her daughter, both dressed in shades of pink, approaching the door. I held it open for them, and they both beamed at me in gratitude. The little girl clutched her Barbie doll close to her heart.

During the movie, I found myself seated behind another mother-daughter duo, also dressed in pink from head to heels. The little girl held onto the back of her mom's shirt, finding comfort in her presence as the story unfolded on the screen. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled similar moments when my mom had been there for me just like this mother was for her daughter.

Watching the film this time felt more personal. It was as if I was witnessing not only the on-screen story but also the intimate moments shared between mothers and daughters in the audience. I wondered if the mom in front of me felt the same emotions I did—perhaps she cried like I did during certain poignant scenes, relating to the journey of motherhood or reflecting on her own cherished memories of playing with Barbie dolls.

The movie finally came to an end, and I headed to what I knew would be the greatest location to find female camaraderie: the women's restroom. Little did I know that this would turn out to be one of the most magical experiences of both viewings of the movie.

As I stepped into a stall, I overheard a woman's voice echoing in the restroom, thanking someone for suggesting this bathroom instead of the other one with a long line. Another woman chimed in with laughter, “No problem, girl!” affirming that there was indeed no wait here. It became clear that these were two older women who had come with their daughters and granddaughters, expecting a movie geared more towards children. However, the film had surprised and touched them deeply.

One woman exclaimed, "That was a really deep movie, I was not expecting it to be so emotional. I loved it!" I listened intently as the other woman responded, "I know! I thought it was so neat seeing all the different Barbie dolls throughout the years. I remember Midge, I had her. She was weird." Their laughter filled the air, and I couldn't help but join in, sharing my own Barbie memory by saying, “I had the dog.” They looked at me in surprise, laughed, as the first woman said “I was wondering if that was one for the younger generation, I didn’t recognize it!” I laughed and told them to have a good day as I walked out. They smiled and said “you too, baby!”

It was a simple interaction but it spoke volumes to me. My first encounter with the movie I found camaraderie with women of my own age, this time I found camaraderie that transcended generations. In the bathroom, we became more than strangers; we were a community of women connected by our shared experiences, memories, and emotions.

My Thoughts

The emotional impact of Barbie (2023) created a movement of solidarity that I certainly felt in the theater. While reading other reviews and seeing content on social media, I have realized that this same sense of solidarity is within all of us who enjoyed the Barbie movie. Women everywhere are trying to be better. We are sticking up for each other more; appreciating our moms, sisters and friends. We are having more confidence that we can be whatever we want to be, Ken or no Ken, just like Barbie. 

Reflecting on the experience, I realized that Barbie's influence extended far beyond just being a toy. She represented more than a fashion-forward doll; she symbolized the joy of childhood and the bonds of sisterhood. I felt an overwhelming sense of appreciation for the cherished memories she had gifted me and the connection I shared with all those who had grown up with her too.

A Dedication to all of the Real-Life Barbies

This article is dedicated to all of the women in my life. My sister. My mom. I love you girls. You were my first girlfriends and playmates. You’ve taught me about the complexities of growing up and how to be a woman. To all the girls I grew up playing volleyball with, you taught me how strong women can be when they work as a team. To the teachers I had, you taught me that I am just as smart if not smarter than many men and the value of education and hard work. To my high school friends, you taught me how to be a good friend, even when you are selfish and mean and PMSing. To my college friends, you girls taught me how fun it is to be a girl and to grow into a woman. To my friends, especially when I was 19… Thank you. That was a hard year for me. To all the women in the bathrooms that have loaned me a tampon, held the broken bathroom stall for me, lent me a lip gloss, told me boys are stupid and gave me a pep talk, thank you. To Taylor Swift, this one is self explanatory; she is what it means to be a woman. To all the women that saw the Barbie movie and understood it. You’re doing a fantastic job. Love you, girl.