Before PlayStation: The toys I grew up with – Part 3

Princess Molly was beautiful- her long, blond curls were always drawn back in the latest fashion, and her bright blue eyes, though they sported every color eye shadow in the rainbow, outshone any fancy dress she ever wore. She was welcomed at every party, and she made the best of company in every crowd: the preschool girls, the dance girls, my parents. Molly was my favorite of all the toys I owned.

All of my friends loved coming over- from the box full of old dance costumes, boas and costume jewelry to my mother’s giant bouncy exercise balls to my beaded necklace kits, every girl that passed through my basement brought in a doll and entered into a majestic kingdom where they and their dolls became princesses, wearing tiaras and crowns we made from construction paper, markers, and jewels all while sporting my ballet tutus. We (and our dolls, of course) would address my brother’s action figures not like toys but servants, and we’d push their little legs over to raise their little swords, pushing and fighting off the green balls we deemed evil dragons.

Castle forts made of pillows and blankets were strewn across the couches and we would pretend we were forced into hiding, making beautiful beaded necklaces (which, if they were pretty enough, we kept for ourselves) for the Witch Ladies, the other girls who volunteered to “kidnap” us. Part of our servitude required making delicious Play-Doh sandwiches, made only from the best orange, green and yellow balls and, if we were lucky, accompanied by McDonald’s Play-Doh Fries. Our dolls and the Witch Ladies would devour our meals, often at my plastic table over cups of imaginary tea.

As I grew older and Tamagotchis got cooler, this magical world slowly unraveled and Molly spent more and more time on my rocking chair. But just because technology became a more integrated part of my childhood didn’t mean I had stopped imagining- when the batteries ran out or our Furbies wouldn’t stop asking for food or we were just bored, my friends and I would throw those toys aside and always revert back to our castle forts. After all, a computer game may let your child dress a character up in gowns, go on adventures through forbidden forests and dance with Prince Charming, but it simply can’t compete with wearing a (plastic) tiara and Cinderella shoes, transforming her into a real princess.