Pieces of Me

Blythe '72

To your left is my Blythe '72. This was my Blythe as a child and she'd been in my mother's basement for the last 40 years. Considering how much I played with her as a child, she's in pretty good shape (or so I thought). The biggest issues seemed to be her broken neck. This task seemed a bit daunting so we let her sit and wait. And wait. And wait.  

Gack! We finally took the plunge and took her apart. At first I thought I could be a willing participant in the dismantle but in the end couldn't bear to be there. I waited nervously in my office distracting myself with a shopping sprees for  Blythe baubles on e-Bay. 

The First Cut

Following  how-to videos on the web, we first removed her hair for a wash, detangle and defrizz. There was some damage to the back skull plate - I figured I must've done this as a child BUT once inside the head we realized that this was not the first tyme that Blythe '72 went under the knyfe.

Five years old and it seemed at one point in my lyfe, someone cared enough to take my doll to be fixed when she was broken. We also discovered the eye mechanism had been previously repaired.

As she came apart, piece by piece, I realized one of the reasons it was so difficult to watch was because it was more than just a doll sitting on the kitchen / operating table; it was my childhood.

Removing the Spring is a bit trickier in the vintage models. 

Taking apart the scalp revealed even more damage in unsuspecting places. The broken neck was becoming less and less important.

 

Skull Fracture

 

 

I also gave Blythe '72 pubic hair. I was a very progressive child.

Pieces of Me Laying Open on the Table. I know there's a Frida Kahlo painting in here somewhere.

Aaaaaah, here it is: Henry Ford Hospital, 1932; Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907-1954)

Previously broken and repaired eye mechanism becomes weirdly symbolic of a fleeting moment of childhood tenderness.