The Headless Dolls of Creepy Hollow
In case it wasn’t obvious, the title of this blog is a clumsy play on “The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.” The only thing this blog has in common with Washington Irving’s short story is an unfortunate state of headlessness and the fact that I’ve been told many times that having a box of headless naked dolls sitting around is “creepy.” Sleepy … creepy … that’s how my mind works. And don’t you worry – the sideline references will get weirder from here, so buckle up…
I love the hilarious and thoroughly rewatchable 1998 film, “Small Soldiers,” and highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it. What does a movie about commando action figures mistakenly implanted with military-grade AI chips have to do with headless dolls, you might wonder.
Well … not to reveal spoilers, but there’s a scene in the movie where the tiny toy troopers storm a neighbor girl’s house and commandeer her Wendy Doll collection to create an army of foot soldiers to carry out their aggressive military objectives. In a weird nod to the 1935 film “The Bride of Frankenstein,” starring Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester, the commandos proceed to build an elaborate “modification lab” in the kitchen, utilizing a blender, toaster, and other appliances to transform the Wendy dolls into “Frankendolly” cyborg-like infantry ladies. (“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” LOL!)
Doll collectors who’ve been at it for a while tend to do some similarly weird “Frankendolly” experiments with their dolls, all in the hope of trying to improve what they have. For instance, a surprise thrift store find may yield a “grail” doll a collector has coveted but hasn’t been able to find at a reasonable price in the resale market. However, the thrifted doll may have some flaws – like a chewed hand or foot, a cracked neck, or some horrible marker stains. The easiest solution to remedying such problems is to find a “donor” body and transplant the head to create a more pleasing doll. Some collectors will procure what they consider a not-so-cool doll just to scavenge the outfit, a desired accessory, or the head to put it on a more appealing body. And some collectors, wanting to give all the dolls in their collection better articulation, will switch heads of dolls they like to bodies that offer more desired attributes.
In the process of all this head and body switching, some casualties may occur – broken neck pegs, unwanted bodies, or unwanted heads that end up in stash boxes for future use, or never again to see the light of day. I have a bag of doll heads marked “Crappy Doll Heads.” “Crappy” because the hair is in a terrible mess (matted, unfortunate haircut, etc.), or the faces have problems that require extensive work to fix (stains, missing paint, don’t like the face sculpt, etc.). Why am I keeping these heads? My thought at one time was to “practice” on these heads to hone my hair-rerooting and face-painting skills. But honestly, I have so many other things to spend time on, rerooting seems a faraway dream at this point.
Similarly, I have a box of cast-off doll bodies that I don’t consider salvageable. Why I haven’t discarded these bodies, I don’t know. During the MerMay craze, I thought about converting them to mermaid bodies and practicing transplanting articulation joints in the elbows and wrists. But, again, lack of time and skill are huge deterrents to taking on such involved projects. Right now, I am in the midst of a massive ongoing cleaning purge, so perhaps these overlooked and underutilized doll parts will soon be addressed in a more expedient manner.
Meanwhile, my Frankendolly experiments of late have yielded some peculiar results. I had purchased a Barbie basic fashionista doll because she had a strangely perky and cute face, combined with a head of light blue hair. (Who can resist some fantasy hair? Not me.) I found her oddly funny disembodied head in a storage tub, and she ended up on a mildly articulated doll body of another make and brand.
In the process of going through some doll clothes stashes to find a suitable outfit for this new blue-haired Frankendolly, I discovered a box (yes, an entire copy paper box) of cheap lacy dresses and gowns that I imagine were churned out by the thousands in Chinese sweatshop sewing factories and sold for little or nothing. The material is chintzy, the tailoring has a gunny-sack fit, and the styling is boldly over the top – and not in a good way. Big waistband or shoulder-strap flowers, stiff and poofy floor-length skirts with no flow … you get the idea. These are Halloween-costume-level princess dresses. BUT – I cannot let go of them. I keep thinking there’s some way to salvage them into usable garments. However, given my lack of seamstress skills, it is highly unlikely that I’ll be able to rework these pitiful princess gowns into desirable dresses any doll would be happy to wear.
And this is where I’ll segue into the next blog, once I manage to snap some pictures of some unlucky ladies modeling these unfortunate garments. Stay tuned for the next installment tentatively titled “Fashion Disasters.” Or maybe some spin on the “Say Yes to the Dress” wedding-gown-shopping reality show – “Say Hell No to the Dress!” LOL.
