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Wednesday, 15 June 2011


There was a woman on the front page
of the free paper, page three style
She’d spent thousands shaping her body
To Barbie contours.

She’d found men to part her chiselled thighs
She, a statue, coming alive under the knife.
She has a daughter, age seven, given a token for her birthday
-I can’t wait to have big boobs like Mummy-

Given a voucher for plastic surgery
when your body exists through your bumpy knees,
your blunt elbows, clumsy, your skin a bag of bones and puppy fat
Pole dancing class: age six

She has the same name as my sister
This child, given crayons like scalpels,
drawing stick figures, big circles.

Barbie, permanently high heeled perches
On our shelves, watching as we grow older.

© Rebecca Audra Smith

‘Human Barbie’ buys 7 year old daughter a boob job
Rebecca Audra Smith will be studying Creative Writing: Poetry MA at Manchester Metropolitan this September. She co-runs Stirred, a night aimed at feminist performance poetry.


  1. This story horrified me, and I'm not even a mum! I love the contrast between the predatory doll 'watching' and the little girl: bumpy knees... bag of bones and puppy fat.

  2. I was going to write about the weird relationship kids have with their barbie dolls, which is totally personal and strange, but it didn't fit into this poem! I'm glad you like that part, as I added that in the second edit :).