I’m a post-Barbie girl in a post-Barbie world… so what happens now?

Most cult members have something in common; they never thought they’d be the type of person to join a cult.

In fact, most cult members are markedly normal people who’ve just been caught off guard by a moment of vulnerability or a period of personal crisis.

According to cult expert Margaret Singer, two thirds of people in cults “come from functioning families and were demonstrating age-appropriate behaviour at the time they joined.” Many are recruited by friends or family. 

Most of us believe we’d never be so gullible to get sucked into a situation of hopelessly devoted servitude.

It’s a peer pressure thing. A social thing. 

Most of us believe we’d never be so gullible, so impressionable, so unfathomably stupid to get sucked into a situation of hopelessly devoted servitude. No, no, no. Not me. I’m way too smart. Way too chill for that level of mind-fuckery.  

Above: No one ever thinks they're gullible enough to be brainwashed.

You know the main characteristics of a cult? 

• The language of fanaticism. A set of agreed-upon terminology that inspires a sense of belonging. 
• A wholly strategic and manipulative process of indoctrination, also known as brainwashing. 
• Dedication to a charismatic leader. An unwavering worship in which the object of our idolisation can do no wrong. 
• Commercial exploitation. Money. Oodles of money, making the people in charge very, very rich indeed.  

In unrelated news, I just received a credit card bill from my summer spending. £200 on bright pink Barbie Crocs; £109 on a Barbie satin-effect bomber jacket from Zara; £2,028 on a Balmain x Barbie BBuzz 23 See-Through Shoulder Bag; £295 on a Barbie x Fossil Limited Edition Three-Hand Date Black LiteHide Leather Watch; £16 on a Barbie Tangle Teezer detangling brush; a £50 ‘I am Kenough’ hoodie; a few hundred quid on Lush Barbie Bath Bombs; £700 on a Ruggable pink ombre Barbie rug; seven thousand cans of Barbie limited edition Swoon pink lemonade; and so many £15 potent fuschia cocktails that I bled Pantone 219C for ten days in July. 

[I drank] so many £15 potent fuschia cocktails that I bled Pantone 219C for ten days in July. 

My doctor was terrified. 

Above: Barbie products, never scarce, went into overdrive this summer.  

This summer I merrily trotted around (in my pink Barbie Crocs) praising men for their 'Kenergy' and hanging on Greta Gerwig’s every word as her Barbie film hurtled towards worldwide earnings of $1.38 billion (at the time of writing). As the bus and train stations around me blushed with the tones of a million flamingos, Barbieland was my Utopia.  

My review of the film was gushing. “A cultural moment!” I announced. This was it. Barbie was the thing to solve the gender inequality crisis. Powerful, enlightening, all the hyperbolic superlatives. I refused to even watch the bad reviews when they occasionally slipped into my TikTok feed. “How dare they,” I thought. “Look at them, trying to give their hot negative takes. Pathetic.” Declarations of love and devotion was all I’d welcome.

But now the glitter has settled and the sugar high from a million Barbie Krispy Kremes has worn off does anyone else feel like they’ve been a bit… hoodwinked? 

What?  

Whaaaaaaaat? 

IT WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL BEHAVIOUR. 

But now the glitter has settled and the sugar high from a million Barbie Krispy Kremes has worn off, now my clothes have lost their neon hues (and it’s been weeks since I wore any salmon) does anyone else feel like they’ve been a bit… hoodwinked? 

Were we drugged?

Above: Greta Gerwig's Barbie was a cultural juggernaut this summer.

I have flashbacks of me on opening night, hammered with my buddies in an Everyman cinema, glugging sparkling rose, crying and whooping at the big screen, believing life would never be the same again. I have a photograph of myself in a massive Barbie box. I was obsessed. It’s like I went on a manic, five-week bender and only now am I thinking: “Hmmm. That was a bit much.”  

George Bernard Shaw once said: "Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything," and I think I might have changed my mind about Barbie. Because, apart from the size of my credit card bill, what’s even changed since the world got painted pink? The answer is, of course, nothing. The patriarchy still exists, and men still love it. It’s still really important for women to be pretty. Ladies continue to get attacked and abused in every town and country. High profile women are still being slagged off for no reason on the internet. 

When Ryan Gosling becomes the only star of the film to win any acting awards (come on, you know it’s going to happen) we’ll realise the needle hasn’t moved in the slightest.

In the last couple of weeks we’ve been reminded that Hollywood is as dark and grubby as ever, especially with high profile apologists Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher providing character statements for serial rapist and scientologist Danny Masterson. At the time of writing this article I’m also watching videos of Russell Brand receive a standing ovation at his comedy gig on the same night Channel 4 reported on rape allegations made against him. 

And when Ryan Gosling becomes the only star of the film to win any acting awards (come on, you know it’s going to happen) we’ll realise the needle hasn’t moved in the slightest. Instead, the real deal is that we all got inducted into a commercial cult for three months of 2023, brainwashed into believing that a quite good film with a great cast was going to change the world. 

I’m an idiot. We got done, girls (and guys). We got rinsed in the name of feminism.  

Above: Like much of the world's cinema-going public, Amy Kean got Barbied this summer.

Yet, it’s only now, with some distance, I’m able to reflect upon the film with an objective eye. Towards the end of the movie the character Gloria (played by America Ferrera) delivers what’s become a famous monologue, including the lines:

“It is literally impossible to be a woman. You have to be thin, but not too thin. You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us.” 

We were so busy quoting America Ferrera on TikTok we didn't realise the call was coming from inside the house. 

When I heard that speech in the cinema (both times 🙄) the audience roared in recognition, like this was a brand-new observation. But it wasn’t. We’ve heard this a thousand times before, haven’t we? Feminists and thought leaders on LinkedIn have been saying this for years. It wasn’t a revolutionary set of statements and, to be honest, Barbie and her ilk caused a lot of that nonsense in the first place. 

According to Dr Stephanie Damiano, a researcher who specialises in body image and eating disorders, “what research seems to indicate is that exposure to Barbie increases young girls’ internalising the societal ideals for thinness to judge their own bodies, which is an important risk factor for developing body dissatisfaction.” We were so busy quoting America Ferrera on TikTok we didn't realise the call was coming from inside the house. 

Above: America Ferrera's heartfelt monologue in Barbie featured old ideas packaged in a new, pink case.

I blame myself, in part. I blame us. Isn’t it typical that we’d place all this pressure on one single film about women! When has one film EVER changed the world? Apart from maybe Jaws, which made the whole planet fucking petrified of sharks for the rest of their lives. Irrationally so. I can’t even go on a water slide anymore without assuming some spiteful little water beast is going to munch his way through the plastic. (Source: Jaws 3D)  

We expected too much. But the problem was, we were told to. The film got a lot of attention because it paid for the attention. It received feminist critique because it positioned itself as a feminist film. It had a perfectly sound-bitey script (we knew what powerful words and phrases to repeat to our friends afterwards). We knew the lingo. "Thanks to Barbie, all problems of feminism have been solved,” said the film’s narrator. 

The problem is shiny feminism. Shiny, pink, quotable, easy, feel-good feminism.

It was a joke. But a joke we were told to believe.  

The problem is shiny feminism. Shiny, pink, quotable, easy, feel-good feminism. And the problem with shiny feminism is that it pretends it’s fixing things. Shiny feminism is good with words and works well in an Instagram post. Shiny feminism seems nice and provides ample opportunity to say lots and do very little. Shiny feminism is palatable. Shiny feminism is an industry. Shiny feminism takes our money and then hands us over to the next capitalist product looking to profit from women’s frustration and hope. Shiny feminism sells ‘Smash the Patriarchy’ t-shirts, and Barbie x Fossil Limited Edition Three-Hand Date Black LiteHide Leather Watches.