The other night, my sister and I were talking about the various Air Force ceremonies we’d attended with our father growing up (because of Mac’s graduation). She and I distinctly recall Daddy’s promotion ceremony to Lieutenant Colonel. We rocked super stylish matching navy velour dresses. We wore them a few months later at our grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary (Mac proposed on December 5, 2010, what would have been their 66th anniversary). I vividly remember the fact that we wore white tights with little presents stitched on them (since it was near Christmas and all) and that these tights itched like a mother. I also told her that I was super jealous of her stick-on earrings, that I had stolen a pair, and that the earrings, in the grand irony of life, refused to stick to my ears.
This evolved into a discussion of the essential tenet to big sister / young sister relationships (where the sisters are close in age): jealousy. I grew up eternally jealous of everything Leslie did, not because I wanted to or was interested, but because she got to do it and I wanted to be like her. My younger sister jealousy reached its zenith when Leslie’s godfather bought her an American Girl doll (Samantha). I got a stuffed manatee (they lived in the Orlando area), and I was pissed.
To save their sanity, my parents bought me my own American Girl doll. I had an existential crisis choosing between Kirsten (who kind of looked like me) and Felicity (who lived in Colonial Williamsburg. Umm, hello, yes). I chose Kirsten and then cried.
For several years, my parents were lucky that I meticulously cataloged my Christmas list: I would record the magazine page, item, and price and even tallied up the total damage (and was then shocked when my parents didn’t spend $5000 buying me every single item in the American Girl doll catalog). But I remember this outfit.
Back in the day (and maybe still in the day now?), you could buy matching outfits for you and your doll. I just had to have this super cool plaid walking cape with faux fur muff and hat. I’m pretty sure I harassed my parents about it for weeks, and (not) surprisingly, they didn’t want to shell out $300 for capes for my doll and me. Oh, the tragedies of youth.
And how cool would I have been? Who else remembers making ridiculous Christmas lists?
I wanted an American Girl doll SO BAD growing up! Never got one, but I somehow received every catalog ever produced. So that was fun. š
Oh my gosh, AG dolls were always on my Christmas list. My first one was Samantha, who looked like me, is still my favorite but I loved Felicity and Kirsten too.
I had Felicity and I used to paper clip a magazine and highlight everything they I HAD to have for my parents. They do still have matching outfits, however most of the AG girls we know are no longer available and have been retired.
My grandma used to give me the AG magazine and tell me to circle everything I wanted. In later years I learned that it was important to circle less things, because then I would be more likely to get the things I really wanted.
And I had Felicity growing up, although when they were getting ready to retire Samantha a few years ago bought her, so now I actually have both of them, as well as a doll of today.