Barbie Girls Rule?

BARBIE, THAT plastic icon of all things pink, blond and clueless, has appointed herself guardian of girls' ambitions.

Mattel's new ad campaign for the much-maligned doll is trading in her anorexic image for neofeminist slogans and heartwarming rhetoric. What's a feminist to make of it?

The black-and-white series—which appeared earlier this year on phone booths and billboards in New York City—features portraits of rough, tough girls with hockey sticks and wind-whipped hair.

Slogans like "Girls rule" and "Be anything" are clearly gleaned from the feminist-inspired girls' movement. A small pink logo in the corner reads, unobtrusively, "Barbie."

But that's not all. This March, at Barbie's 40th anniversary, Mattel announced a three-year partnership with Girls Inc., a non-profit service organization that was formerly the Girls Club of America. The mission of Girls Inc., which has 350,000 members nationwide, is to "inspire girls to be strong, smart, and bold young women."

Guess if you flash enough green, people will eventually see pink. Hwo else to explain this remark from Isabel Carter Stewart, Girls Inc.'s executive director? "We are delighted to have Mattel -- a corporation that has such tremendous impact on the lives of girls -- as our partner. Their products help grils dream about the future, and our programs help girls prepare and plan to achieve their goals."

Hmm. Maybe she's talking about Barbie Fashion Designer, currently the top-selling CD-ROM marketed to girls? Or could it be the upcoming Working Woman Barbie, which debuts Fall 1999 with cell phone, laptop, planner, coffee cup, software, and a copy of Working Woman magazine?

Either way, Mattel has clearly caught wind of the feminist complaint that Barbie is more style than substance -- and a destructive style at that. What better way to silence your critics than to pay them off? Mattel's bestselling doll also needs a boost at a time when girls' attention is increasingly diverted by after-school sports and computer games. Apparently, that means infiltrating girls' lives everywhere they go.

"We want Barbie to represent a lifestyle brand for girls, not just a brand of toys," Anne Parducci, Mattel's senior VP of Barbie Marketing, tells CNN.com. "We want to capture girls in the many ways they are spending their time now and in the future."

Of course, Mattel insists that Barbie has always been an icon of cutting-edge womanhood. Since the doll's debut in 1959, she has allegedly mirrored women's lives with her bevy of careers and condos. She's been packaged as a presidential candidate, a WNBA player, and an astronaut.

In reality, the only thing that's changed is her outfit. Peel off the tippytoed hightops and figure-flattering spacesuit and there she is: the same genital-free babe with pencil thighs, vapid smile, and impossibly curvaceous rack. (Well, almost the same — in early 1998, Mattel treated Barbie to a body makeover; they narrowed her hips and diminshed her chest slightly so she's look better in contemporary, midriff-baring teen fashions.)

The biggest change to Barbie is her sales figures. In April 1999, Mattel posted a loss and announced plans to dismiss around 10% of its employees. By contrast, rival toymaker Hasbro (which produces Teletubbies, Furbies, and Pokemon) scored a 38% revenue increase in the first quarter. Mattel must be hoping that a little girl power will encourage the cash flow.

But it's too late for Mattel to change Barbie's status as an insta-symbol of everything that's wrong with our culture's well-worn images of femininity and beauty. Unless, of course, they deliver a fleet of Barbies with cellulite fat asses, nappy hair, big noses, and voiceboxes that discuss the inherent flaws of dolls as role models at the pull of a string.

Ads telling girls they can "be anything" or "become your own hero" are only wrapping the Mattel message —buy our products now! —in a vaguely girl-positive package.

And getting self-esteem from a company that brought us aerobics instructor Barbie is about as easy as squeezing the Share-a-Smile Becky doll's wheelchair through the too-small doorway of the Dreamhouse.

— Ophira Edut