The Case of The Thin Man and The Fake Barbie

At some point in my young career, I happened to catch several old Thin Man episodes on TV and instantly became obsessed.

The smug yet romantic interplay of William Powell and Myrna Loy as “Nick and Nora,” their glamourous life in NYC, their pert little dog, Asta…not to mention their slightly dangerous life revealing con men and murderers; they all contributed to an allure never before seen in my hometown of Davenport, Iowa.

“Nick and Nora’s” casual cigarettes and martinis at 5:00; boas and evening gowns and tuxes…all of this dazzled my Iowa brain into a dream world that affected my sleep and schoolwork!

At about the same time, my dear mother presented me with my first Barbie and Ken dolls.  Barbie had the clothes; Ken had the panache.  It was perfection.  They became Nick and Nora.

I spent the next two years creating their penthouse, which spread across most of our living room.  Little did I know then that I would carry this passion into my future career.

Mattel soon came forth with fabulous suites of mid-century Barbie furniture.  And my sweet mom gifted me and the penthouse with all the latest.  Now Nick and Nora had every comfort of home

and the ability to reenact their crime solving on a regular basis.

Nick sleeping on the job…

Fast forward.  I grew up, cast off dolls, but never the love of crime and murder mysteries.   (And I still have vintage photos of Nick and Nora in my dressing room.)

Barbie and Ken and their penthouse furniture were packed away in the attic…until last month, when my sister presented me with the same box that somehow had made it to her basement

in another house and another state.

Coincidentally, the Barbie movie had just premiered.

I unwrapped the dolls and the furniture in great reverence, instantly feeling the thrill of it all decades later!

But why doesn’t my Barbie look like every other Barbie that is appearing everywhere in the world?  Her eyes open and close; her neck isn’t elongated; she has a normally proportioned woman’s body…

I had to Google her.  There it was.  Mom had given me a Vogue Vera doll – not a Barbie at all.  A defunct Barbie wanna-be that wasn’t even worth that much on eBay.  So I googled Ken’s photo with shaking hands.  Turns out he is a nameless “boy doll” without a brand.  My “Barbie” had been living with a young boy posing as her husband – and they weren’t even authentically meant to be together as Barbie and Ken, let along Nick and Nora.

Wink!

Wink!

Fortunately, I had my early fantasies of their perfect life at a time when I was quite innocent.  Now I could face this revelation with a smile that my mom had conned me and probably didn’t even know she had!

So I packed everything away with love and watched an old Thin Man episode for fun…