Two doll articles in a row. My finger is clearly on the pulse of modern culture.
I was meandering through the shelves of novelty salt shakers and broken waffle irons in Goodwill, when I stumbled across the omnipresent pile of naked barbies. You know the one. Every Goodwill has one. This lovely young lady caught my eye for two reasons
1. She wasn't an amputee, and she still had the use of her elbows and knees. That's pretty good for a doll. It shouldn't be, but it is.
2. That glorious tawny lion mane she's sporting. I pulled her out of the pile feet first, and the moment I saw those tangled feral locks I knew I was taking her home. Even naked, she already looked like something right out of my head. Or is it "especially" naked? Probably that one.
So, something I never really talk about because I'm so preoccupied with monster women: I love gypsies. Love love love, love love. I know for a fact that Disney is to blame. When Hunchback came out, I went through at least a year of obsession with Esmeralda. She's still one of my favorite characters of all time, and I would probably shove a toddler if they had a greeting station for her at Disney World. Thus is the depths of my depravity.
The idea of the mystic palm reading Romani is one that I always enjoy, so I knew what I was going to do with miss naked Barbie before I left the store.
Now she is Vadoma, mystical vagabond and exposer of unseen truths. She's also missing a thumb. I like to imagine she sacrificed it to seal away some ancient death spirit. Better than losing it to a teething toddler. Did I mention I scrubbed her down head to toe? You should always do that with anything you get from Goodwill. You never know when your new books previous owner was Gorloth the Living Disease.
She and Clawdeen look lovely together, and I'm glad they could overcome their werewolf/gypsy prejudices. Talbots be damned!
Now I'm pondering how to build a horse drawn cart, or a palm reading tent. Dealing with gypsies is a tricky thing...