Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Friday, May. 28, 2004 - 3:32 a.m.

Is this a place for girls who live uber-perfect lives, or what? Seriously, I had no idea this even existed until tonight, and aside from absolute amazement, I've no idea what to feel. I can't imagine living such a picture perfect little life as to make this the ideal place to hang out. Or even *a* place to hang out. What must that be like, I wonder? What kind of a relationship do you have to have with your parents for this to be your destination? What kind of childhood? I mean, is this for real, or is it just some yuppy-constructed fantasy of epic proportions? This takes the whole white-picket-fence idea and just bumps it up to the nth degree, to a place I could not fathom if I spent the rest of my life trying to figure it out. And in fact, I might, I am so astonished that it even exists. I mean, it's one thing to take pictures of your bear at landmarks in France, it's another entirely to take it to an entire mall dedicated to that event, set it up in a "Treat Seat" to share lunch right up there at the table with you, have its hair coiffed and styled, take in a live show with it, and buy matching outfits, for cripes' sake. And for the entire thing to be a bonding experience with your mother and other perfect little princesses just like you. There are even special events to take your father to, so you can bond with Daddy just like with Mom.

And the bizarro thing is that they get enough business so that there are not one but TWO little doll malls. I mean someone please help me out with this. Is it that that many people live picture-perfect lives, or is it just that that many people want to, and whoever the demon-spawn are who came up with this gimmick from hell are raking it in cashing in on other people's desperate fantasies? I guess it's a great thing if you live such a picturesque and wondrous life that you and Mom and all your little prep-school friends get to skip on out to the SUV and shooby down to the doll mall for the ultimate pre-deb experience, but I'm finding it hard to buy, frankly. Then again, my parents were not big on spending as much money on my dolls' clothing as they spent on their own, and I find it hard to imagine my mother waiting as a stylist gave my doll a Rachel. Even given the Little Miss Pageant phase she went thru with me. I just don't see it.

So um, yeah. Boggled.

Peace out,
Katie

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