RYAN BAKKEN: Biker-chick Barbie doesn't set the best example
I'm not a fan of Barbie dolls. Nor am I a fan of tattoos.
So, you probably can imagine what I think of Tattoo Barbie.
Yes, a tattooed Barbie is now available, apparently for all the biker-chick pre-schoolers on your Christmas list.
The actual name is TokiDoki Barbie, who obviously doesn't double as a high school cheerleader. Her tattoo array includes flowers covering her clavicle, a dragon curling across her back and a geisha on one shoulder.
The only thing that's traditional Barbie pink is her hair. A mini-skirt, leopard leggings, stiletto pumps and black toenail polish completes the you-don't-want-to-meet-her-in-a-dark-alley look.
We were thankful our daughter preferred other dolls over Barbie. Not to go all politically correct on you, but Barbie sets a bad example because she's anatomically incorrect. If a human being was that top-heavy, she'd tip over. She would, anyway, unless she also had a Kim Kardashian-proportioned keister as an anchor.
Barbie also unfairly raises men's expectations of women. That isn't fair because women don't use G.I. Joe to raise their expectations of men.
While I understand Barbie's appeal to young girls, I've never grasped the appeal of tattoos. When I grew up, tattooed people fell into two categories: sailors and hoods.
I acknowledge that tattoos are more socially accepted these days. Twenty percent of adults under the age of 50 have a tattoo. And, another plus, tattooing no longer is the health risk it was before regulations and standards were in place.
I might agree that some tattoos are meaningful, such as tributes to departed loved ones, or pledging undying love. Ink shows a greater commitment than say, a ring, which can be taken off.
Tattoos in small portions, such as a rose, can even be attractive.
But every pore of epidermis as a canvas? A human version of the Sistine Chapel? More messages on your body than you send via e-mail in a day? No thanks.
Besides, tattoos require needles. And I'm scared of needles.
Maybe that's why I'm against coloring my skin. Maybe I'm yellow.
Reach Bakken at (701) 780-1125; (800) 477-6572, ext. 125; or send e-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org.<?i>