Barbie is an important part of most every American woman's girlhood. Who can believe she has reached the ripe old age of 50? Unfortunately, I was born too early to participate in the Barbie experience as a girl, so I had to wait for the birth of a daughter to live vicariously through the famous doll.

My daughter, Jill, arrived when her brother Steven was 7 and brother Adam was 3. By this time, I really yearned for a daughter -- another female who could share the fun of clothes shopping, makeup, hairstyling and, of course, Barbie! I was tired of tripping over huge Tonka trucks and giant wooden-block skyscrapers, which the boys noisily crashed after construction. I envisioned sedate little girls, playing quietly and mannerly with their Barbies, instead of hordes of boys rampaging through the house.

Jill loved her baby dolls with the same passionate devotion as I had loved mine. When she was 3, I excitedly accompanied her to buy her first Barbie. I don't know who had more fun browsing through Barbie's many outfits -- my daughter or me. We chose a closet for Barbie's clothes, complete with tiny pink hangers, and Jill was allowed to assemble the beginning of the doll's wardrobe with three selections. This procedure took at least an hour because I had to look at and critique each outfit. There were also accessories for Barbie -- tiny shoes, purses and scarves, which eventually got lost somewhere in the house, never to be seen again.

I discovered that Jill could play quietly by herself or with friends, who brought their Barbies, Kens and Skippers to playdates at our house. The girls were able to keep busy for hours in Jill's room creating scenarios for Barbie, unlike the boys who got rowdy and wild and had to be sent out to the yard with their friends.

Playing with Barbies is a unique experience. If you observe little girls at play with their dolls, you will see that it is really practice for their interpersonal relationships of the future. Barbie and her female friends have disagreements and settle them, and Barbie and Ken reenact the boy-girl and mother-child interactions that are rehearsals for the girls' roles in the working world and as friends, wives and mothers.

Jill is now 41 and the mother of two boys and one girl. Since she lives out of the country, I became the custodian of her best Barbies, which arrived in the moving truck from New York to South Carolina in a box labeled "Jill's Dolls." Unpacking the treasured Barbies 11 years later to photograph them for this story brought back many fond memories.

I remember each doll and its history. Ballerina Barbie, dressed in her tutu, has never aged. Her glorious blonde tresses are perfectly coiffed, and her shapely, girlish figure has not gained an ounce. Ken, Barbie's boyfriend, is stuck in a time warp because he is still attired in a leisure suit, and his long hair is styled in the fashion of the '70s.

Malibu Barbie and Ken have not lost their tans and youthful good looks. Ken's outfit of a print shirt and denim bell-bottoms has survived the test of time and has occasionally returned to the fashion scene since the '70s. Barbie's long gowns are as stylish as ever and could be worn to a prom today.

Through the years, Barbie has evolved just as women have. Barbies come in every race, color and ethnic group so that every girl can relate to her. When my first granddaughter was little, I bought her career Barbies -- Teacher Barbie, Doctor Barbie and others depicting the many facets of women's lives in addition to their traditional roles. Barbie has indulged in a wide range of sports activities, many dominated by males, and her role has expanded just as women's roles have through the years.

I expect to see Secretary of State Barbie soon.

Some of my daughter's Barbies suffered Jill's attempts at hair cutting, and their arms and legs were often pulled off by Jill's brothers, upon which she would shriek -- earning her the nickname of "Shrill Jill." Jill's brothers would seize her Barbies and charge down the stairs, waving them in the air and shouting, "We've got your dolls, Ahhhhh!" Jill would follow them shrieking, "My dolls!" as I wondered why on Earth I ever had children.

T&D Correspondent Shirley Upton can be reached by e-mail at writer@ntinet.com. Discuss this and other stories online at TheTandD.com.

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