Climbing out of the rabbit hole
The term “falling down a rabbit hole” commonly refers to becoming mired in a chaotic and uncontrollable situation, perhaps through one’s own choices. Obviously it alludes to Lewis Carroll’s character Alice and her strange and nonsensical experiences after jumping into a rabbit hole, as recounted in his children’s book, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” I use the term “rabbit-holing” to refer to the deep-dive immersion into something that quickly takes over one’s life and gets so out of hand that, once the dire nature of the situation is realized, it is difficult to extricate oneself from said situation. For me, that “dire situation” is my doll collection.
Unquestionably, my obsessive-compulsive tendencies played a part in creating my dire situation. With a nearly insatiable drive to become distracted to the point of no return by the mere spark of of a passing interest in something new or something forgotten and rediscovered, in combination with the dopamine thrill of online shopping and auction wins, an addiction can easily develop. With the “den of iniquity” presented by EvilBay, and the enticing escapism offered by other doll collectors’ YouTube videos, doll blogs, Pinterest pins, and Instagram posts, social media is a huge rabbit hole difficult for many (me in particular) to resist. What starts as an innocent search for information to complete a task at hand can oftentimes transform into hours and hours of rabbit-holing.
For instance, recently I was trying to correctly identify a doll I plan to offer for sale, and turned to the internet for research. The research turned up inconclusive results, but that didn’t stop me from following one breadcrumb trail after another, clicking a link that led here, and another that led there … until hours later I found myself watching videos and reading blogs on vintage dolls and picta-stories and miniature-making that had absolutely nothing to do with the doll I originally hoped to identify. A whole day wasted, with nothing accomplished has become a familiar refrain for me.
More is not always better … too much stuff makes doll collecting less fun.
My downfall into the rabbit hole of doll collecting started innocently enough with a silly play-acting game with dolls belonging to a niece’s daughter. That joy of play made me recall childhood memories of playing with my first doll – a 1962 ponytail Barbie and her unfortunately pug-nosed redheaded friend Midge. Coincidentally, my sister revealed that she had acquired some unusual fashion dolls to model crochet gown kits she had purchased and hoped to complete. She showed me those dolls, and I was enthralled by their long silky hair, realistically shaped bodies, and beautiful expressive faces. They looked so much more interesting and play-worthy than that poor stiff ratty-haired Barbie I had as a kid, who traveled with her sparse selection of worn clothes tucked in a pasteboard bar-soap-box suitcase with a string for a handle. With that, the doll spark was rekindled. That’s all it took for my OCD to kick in.
Months – years – went by, as I deep-dived into plans to repaint and customize dolls, acquiring secondhand candidates and supplies for makeovers. Barbie and her new crew of Fashion Fever friends grabbed my attention with sporty clothes, fresh styles, and play line affordability. Along the way, I stumbled across Integrity Toys’ play line, Janay and Friends, with their edgy non-Barbie look and array of ethnic representation that quickly morphed into a new line of expensive ARTICULATED collector fashion dolls – Fashion Royalty. I was hooked. A brief dalliance with articulated play line Barbie drew me from the more costly dolls and spared my wallet. Then came the perennial pouty yet always beautiful Poppy Parker. And the rest, as they say, is history. Until I ran out of money and space.
It’s been a few years since I’ve allowed myself to purchase a new collector doll, so most of my hoard stash consists of older dolls. On occasion I go online and peruse the newer issues, but always come away feeling wistful, with a sense of regret for not obtaining those dolls that call to me – the updated Nadja Rhymes being at the top of that list. But I simply cannot indulge, knowing there’s no room for even one more doll in my life … not until I let some of my neglected beauties go to happier collector homes where they can be fully appreciated in a fitting manner.
Despite my desperate situation of TOO MUCH STUFF, I still love dolls. I love dressing them, styling them, displaying them, looking at them, and photographing them. I love the idea of sewing for them and creating settings and accessories for them, although my skill at doing these things oftentimes leave much to be desired. But, OCD and doll fun aside, I know I simply must, for the sake of my own sanity, move forward with the objective of divesting myself of TOO MUCH STUFF. So much stuff in fact, that I cannot enjoy any of what I have. There’s no room to play because of SO MUCH STUFF. There’s no time to explore ideas or projects because I’ve sworn to devote all my effort and concentration to the execution of my goal to comfortably divest my life of TOO MUCH STUFF. Now, today, my massively, obsessively overgrown hoarded mountain of dolls is in dire need of harsh curation through brute-force inventorying and ruthless culling. THUS … the purpose of this website, to pare down said collection to a manageable level that contains only those dolls I truly want to keep.
Stay tuned as I claw and crawl my way out of this rabbit hole of overwhelming doom and find my way back to a respectably sane level of doll collecting and appreciation. And let my tale of rabbit-holing woe serve as a cautionary reminder for both the experienced collector and those just starting: moderation in all things. More is not always better.
