I swore I would avoid mentioning a certain “B” movie as long as the current hype lasted, but the wave is all-engulfing and feeding a daily column like this requires a lot of protein, carbs and roughage. The trick is to maintain a careful balance between gourmet delights and junk food. Therefore, I’ve succumbed to the irresistible g-force of the B-brand, and this week’s Daily Hellers will be related—at least peripherally—to “Barbie” and their extended universe.
PART ONE: From Mannequin to Barbie and Ken (Perhaps)
I had long ago fallen deeply and hopelessly in love with mannequins. Don’t you dare say it is odd. I think many men and women have fantasized about them. OK, maybe not many. I for one love the simulacra of mannequins, not real but representing a real ideal. I even did a book on the phenomenon of mini-mannequins (Counter Culture). Nicole Parrot’s Mannequins, published by Academy Editions and St. Martin’s Press in 1982, examines the incredible history of their use as sculptures of commerce.
Mannequin comes from the French word of the same spelling, which had acquired the meaning of “an artist’s jointed model,” which in turn came from the Flemish word manneken, meaning “little man, figurine,” referring to the late–Middle Age practice in Flanders whereby public display of women’s clothing was performed by male pageboys — e.g. little “Kens”.
Most engaging are the poses and expressions given to mannequins, and why. Who they are modeled after. What they are attempting to evoke in the viewer.
What makes for a successful mannequin? For me, the romance is in their details. Articulation.
Mannequins are fragile but not resolutely ephemeral. Stylized but timeless, too. Also called a manikin, the form is usually articulated by artists, tailors, dressmakers, window-dressers and others as a provocative means of display. In English, mannequin originally (and surprisingly) referred only to human models. The meaning changed to signify “a dummy” around the 1940s.
My theory: Barbie’s roots dig deep into the dummy as art.
