If you saw the Barbie movie this summer as someone who grew up experiencing girlhood, it’s likely that you cried. Whether it was America Ferrara’s monologue on the double standards of being a woman under patriarchy, or the relatable rollercoaster of emotions Barbie experiences in her journey from metaphorical girlhood to the harsh reality of womanhood, the film shed a soft light on what it feels like to watch the world change as one gains awareness of the often unfair systems in place.
As entertaining and unique as the content of the film was (anyone else have “I’m Just Ken” stuck in their head since leaving the theater?), the marketing and collective culture around the release of the film is just as intriguing. So take my hands, close your eyes (not really) and breathe, because I think Barbie culture is here to stay.
Let’s first get one thing straight: Barbie has always, by her very existence, been a feminist symbol. Whether or not her “Stereotypical Barbie” brand of blonde hyper-femininity is what you consider to be a feminist package, her creation was in many ways rebellious. Barbie dolls were created before women in America could own a credit card under their own name. Barbie’s house was her house, not Ken’s. Her jobs ranged from fashion designer in 1960 to robotics engineer in 2018; what made Barbie, “Barbie” was intentionally ignoring the reality of patriarchy. Even Ken dolls — which were introduced two years after Barbie dolls — were accessories to Barbie. She never needed a husband or partner to be successful or to feel happy and beautiful. Ken could accompany her only if the child playing with that Barbie doll decided so. He was, as Barbie mentions off-handedly in the film, “totally superfluous.”
So any argument from “anti-woke” men who claim to be shocked by the “anti-men agenda” of the film is immediately irrelevant. If you walked into Barbie expecting to see something that wasn’t feminist, I’m afraid you chose the wrong theater to begin with.
All that being said, let’s take a trip back to May of 2023, when Warner Bros. released the official “Barbie” trailer. Though the trailer gave viewers a glimpse into the plot of the film, it did not reveal how introspective and emotionally devastating the film would be for many viewers. The upbeat music, the stunning all-pink set, the silliness of Ken’s character — none of these elements from the trailer gave hint to such thoughtful commentary.
This was also around the time when Margot Robbie, the star and a producer of the film, began a worldwide press tour where she donned perfect Barbie doll looks. Theaters were soon selling out tickets as groups of girls young and old — dressed in pink, of course — were ready to watch what would surely be a new cult classic.
And then, a real-life plot twist.
“Barbie” was no joyride, as it turned out. Though it came in a bright pink, sometimes stylistically silly package, Barbie was a punch to the gut for those who know the feeling of leaving girlhood behind.
This result was, in my opinion, entirely intentional. The underestimation of “Barbie,” even by excited fans, is quintessential to her character. Barbie dolls have always brought feminist ideas to audiences by showing powerful, successful women as the norm. The movie normalized matriarchy in a similar way. What feels like fiction now could be in some ways reality one day. By the end of the film, many were leaving the theater misty-eyed. The men who saw the film (hopefully) had a new appreciation for the trials and tribulations of girlhood and womanhood. Because the “Barbie” movie offered viewers — as the doll always has — accessible feminism. The film put a tangible voice to the idea of Barbie.
In the film, rather than existing just as an idea, Barbie cried. She experienced beauty with imperfections for the first time. She was human. Her story of experiencing life as a doll then as a human was a fictional way to represent experiencing life as a child then as an adult.
It was accessible feminism that wasn’t ashamed of itself. So often feminist critique is dense and keeps a safe distance from hyperfemininity, which exists differently outside of matriarchy, unfortunately. Barbie, though, having lived in matriarchy, knows that it “does not diminish her power” to hold logic and emotion simultaneously. Barbie dolls brought deeply feminist principles to childhood play; her hyperfemininity took nothing away from her actual abilities.
“Barbie” gifted viewers — particularly those who grew up in girlhood — the comfort of experiencing femininity without shame. It was a deep breath for those who have seen femininity mocked, demeaned, discredited and weaponized in media time and time again.
I could not be more grateful for the marketing that went into this film. The culture surrounding the film was so prolific that wearing pink became synonymous with seeing the movie, and with experiencing the emotions that it brought on anew. It became a subtle code of the summer; a common interest among those who lean into their femininity often, or rarely.
I, for one, left the theater mostly admiring the beauty of matriarchy. Barbieland was not a perfect system for everyone, of course, but compared to even the fictionalization of patriarchy, it was better for everyone involved. I wanted more matriarchy; this was a new and exciting world to see on the big screen. I left with the feeling of pride in my own femininity that I never wanted to go away. I wanted the real-life culture around “Barbie” to be more than a trend.
This is why I hope, more than assume, that “Barbie” is a new cultural lens, rather than a phase. It has been the essence of Barbie dolls since their creation to give girls a glimpse into what they could be, in a perfect world where no one could stop them from trying to attain it. The film could be the same kind of subtle cultural reset.
Its blockbuster status, with an earning of $1.34 billion at the time of writing, is nothing to take lightly. Millions have now experienced a micro version of girlhood, either for the first time or all over again. That is a beautiful, and rare, shared experience. So if you have not yet seen the movie, please do, no matter how you identify. And if you have seen it, don’t wave bye to Barbie anytime soon. I know I won’t.