I ran home in the middle of the day to grab something and tripped on a Bratz doll. She was partially undressed and was missing both of her feet. She wore a painted on g-string and a tramp stamp on the small of her back. Her hot pink Angelina Jolie lips puckered up at me in dull submission, as I yelped out in pain upon impaling my barefoot on her outstretched, pointy hand.
“Get out of my house!” I screamed down at her while jumping around holding my injured foot. She dumbly stared up at me with half-closed, glittery blue eyelids. I immediately felt guilty. It’s not her fault she’s a Bratz doll – some guy made her that way. He somehow convinced her that she liked rolling around on the floor without any feet to stand on, waiting for someone to step on her.
Stupid Bratz dolls are the doll world’s equivalent of stupid Dormatas. A Dormata is a woman who stays with a man even though he treats her like crap because she “loves him”. She will put up with any manner of abuse and betrayal; nothing can shake her love – not even having her head bashed into the pavement, her children abused in front of her, being cheated on, ripped off, lied to or, in the case of a Bratz doll, having her feet severed.
You see Dormata types on tabloid television shows like Gerry Springer and Nancy Grace. These women are disturbing and creepy – they will kill their own children if they believe said children are in the way of “true love”, delusional as that true love may be.
I find Bratz dolls and their removable extremities almost as disturbing as real-life Dormatas and their immovable "love", especially when I find the severed feet all over the place. These detached appendages are in the bathroom, in my car, in the playroom, laundry room, bedrooms, in my purse…in my SOCK. I guess the removable feet are so that little girls can easily exchange the doll’s foot wear, but that doesn’t lessen the creepiness.
I imagine a great number of men – the kind that feed off Dormata types – would love to own a living Bratz doll with removable feet. If she got out of line or tried to get away (because occasionally, rarely, but occasionally, a Dormata comes to her senses), he could just cut her off at the ankles and keep the body part in his briefcase, robe, skullcap or oxcart (depending on where in the world he hailed from) for safe keeping.
If he wanted her to perform some menial task that required ambulation, all he would have to do is pop the feet back in place and send her off to enjoy her drudgery. But really, do concubines need feet? Well, I suppose when they are cleaning they need their feet, although it is possible to scrub floors on your hands and knees. No feet required.
In other words, I don’t think Bratz dolls are appropriate role models or playthings for my young daughter. I also don’t think my little boy should be exposed to this carcinogenic exploitation of PVC plastic female body parts….and yet, here I am with a bevy of Bratz dolls working the halls of my own house. There is something very wrong with this picture.
If I don’t get rid of this chemical trash soon, I fear my son is in danger of developing some weird fetish involving severed feet, and my daughter of becoming a masochist – a Dormata. Ugh.
When I get home tonight, I think I’ll round up all those doll parts and in the morning ship them out to the recycling plant. Maybe all that polyvinyl chloride can be converted into a Rubbermaid garbage can. I’d like that.