Doll clothes

Past: Back in 1984, I loved my Cabbage Patch Kids as much as any mother loved her living, breathing babies. But somewhere along the way—about 15 years later—my dolls got left behind in the basement of my first apartment. I didn’t realize it until many years later when I came across a box full of their clothes, and no dolls. Oops. Sorry, kids.

But their clothes were awesome! Many of them handmade by my Grandma Marge back in the day. And many of them made out of polyester fabrics that—chances are—used to be curtains in the 1970s. Alas, I was doll-less. And 33 years old. These doll clothes needed a new home.

Present: I work with a woman who has three adorable girls—six-year-old twins and older daughter who’s nine. I remember that I was nine years old when I hopped aboard the Cabbage Patch wagon—so I thought it would be nifty to pass them along to another nine-year-old and her younger sisters. So, I washed all the clothes to get rid of the stale smell of 20+ years of non-use (except for the faux-fur coat, muff, and hat), folded everything neatly into a shopping bag, and brought them in to work.

As you can see, these doll clothes are having a good life in their new home. Last I heard, the girls were getting their teddy bears in on the dress-up action. Hooray for new homes for old stuff!

A doll named Bug

Past: This is Bug. She is a collectible Deva doll handmade somtime around 1993 by a woman named Jackie Austin who lived in a house that was both in the woods and along the shore in Connecticut. (Deva is a Sanskrit word for “Angel.”) Jackie and my mother used to be good friends, and for a while my mother sold Jackie’s dolls at arts & crafts shows all around Connecticut. At one point, everyone in my family was involved in the Deva doll business. My father cut the wood for the base, my brother drilled the holes in the wood (ten cents per hole), and for the summer in between college and “the real world,” I glued eyes into the dolls’ heads and helped craft some of the doodads affixed to the hand-dyed clothes.

For years, Bug sat on my bookcase shelves during college and perched upon my dresser in the years following—staring both blankly and wisely upon me. Her “story” (all the Deva dolls have a Legend) was that she was the protector of Little Things and kept them from being or feeling trampled upon. Bug stood as a quiet reminder that it need not be so. Every living creature deserves to be treated fairly and kindly.

The lore is charming and thought-provoking, indeed. But the doll is just not quite my style. So, at some point during a move from one apartment to another, Bug (and my other Deva doll, Cassie) never got unpacked. For years, they remained in storage—wrapped up in a (very un-natural) plastic shopping bag. (Oh, bad karma!)

Present: I posted an ad and photo of Bug on Craigslist—and got a ton of responses. In the end, this doll went to a man whose younger sister has AIDS and, because of her illness, has been stepped upon by her own brothers and sisters. I thought it was beautiful that this man wanted to share with his sister this token of comfort and hope, and I couldn’t be happier to have given this collectible doll a new home—and a mission.