Barbie Lives!

It's amazing what people wear sometimes. One of the more interesting things about working in our nation's capital is that people come from all over the US, and their habits, mannerisms, speech and dress reflect all parts of the country, and they tend to retain them. Unlike NY, where they're from all over the world, and the people from around the country who move there tend to adapt to the local style (or maybe they moved there because the local pace was more 'them' than wherever it is they're from). In any event, the halls at work have always struck me as more exotic than anything I've seen in the Village.

In any event, today as a colleague and I are bringing back coffee from the cafeteria, we see this woman coming at us from the other direction. No kidding, it was Barbie. This was a young woman, tall (probably 5'11 or so), very well built, very attractive, etc. What I noticed first was the hair. It was perfectly blond, but teased in a bouffant side-swept front, with some kind of ponytail thing in the back. It had so much hairspray on it, that she could have gone out into a tornado and nothing would have moved. It just looked like Barbie's hair, or maybe Skipper's. She was wearing a fuzzy pink sweater, just a shade paler than normal Barbie pink, which showed off her perfectly rounded but not unnaturally large bosom. There's also a skirt, which while short and black, was quite tasteful and not too tight, but short enough to show a little leg, with sheer black hose and high-heeled black shoes of the type Barbie used to wear and would always get sucked up into the vacuum cleaner. My friend noticed the makeup, and said the eyelashes were very black and definitely fake.

It was one of those moments when you walked past someone, and all those years of training of how to be polite and not stare come into play. But our conversation stopped mid-sentence, and as soon as we were past, we looked at each other. About ten steps on, it began. "Did you see that?" "Oh yeah." "That hair!" And so forth. And when we get safely back to our office, we talked about it in relative safety, and decided that even though it was really close to Halloween, it was just two steps under camp enough that there was no way that was an intentional costume, and the woman was totally serious. She seemed to be stuck in some kind of time warp, but she wasn't old enough to really be in the time warp of her attire. It was just odd. Someone, somewhere, taught her that this looked good, and was how 'young ladies' should dress. I'm not sure where that is, but it's certainly nowhere I've been in the last 35 years. But today I saw the real Barbie. The six year old in me is very happy now.

She may beat one other event, too. About a year ago, I was also returning with my coffee, and I passed a woman in the hall. Now she was wearing a long grey polyester skirt (the kind that's just a shapeless yard or two of material), with a white blouse with flowy, puffy, sleeves, and a pink lace-up front and back bustier/vest thingy over it. With long stringy blonde hair. Now our office tends to be on the moderate side. Not a lot of hippies running around, or if they are, they are the ones that learned to blend in the environment and wear suits and are infiltrators from within. I kind of notice this woman, smile bemusedly, and head back to my desk. About ten minutes later, two of my colleagues (one of whom was with me today) come over to my desk on their way back from the cafeteria. "We have to tell you what we saw on the way back from the cafeteria. You won't believe it." So I look at them and say 'Renaissance Fayre Girl?" "How did you know? Oh my God, you saw it too!". At about this time, I get some instant messages from people in other parts of the building who had the same sighting. (Yes, we all get coffee around the same time each morning).

So RFG was legendary, and the archetype for "what were they thinking when they stared into the closet this morning?". But Barbie may be the new standard, because what I noticed was a distinct drop in the background din as she would pass, as everyone would just stop what they were talking about to register what they had seen.

And honestly, we don't spend a whole lot of time worrying about what other people wear. Life's too short. Most people are presentable enough, even though a few could use some time with Clinton and Stacy. I get way more commentary when I walk down the hall with men and a particularly short skirt or attractive pair of legs walks by. But in that case only one side of the conversation will stop, and then when the eyeballs have been pushed back in the head, we'll dissect the outfit. Because despite everything, I don't always get what they find the most attractive, as the ones that I think are absolutely stunning usually don't register that strongly with the men. And some of the stuff that I find okay but a little cheap, average, or over the top will stop conversation. I guess it really is true that it can't be too short, too black, or too tight, although what I've also noticed is that at least one element of the overall look has to be extremely classy. I guess it's a madonna/whore thing. It's a shame that none of my usual male cohorts weren't around for the Barbie sighting, because I really would love to hear their take on that.