THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 14, 1996 TAG: 9607100051
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY LOUKIA LOUKA, SPECIAL TO REAL LIFE
LENGTH: 84 lines
ALL THE KING'S horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again. But they didn't know Marcel Faulkner of Virginia Beach.
Maybe she could have added a different chapter to the tragic life of old Humpty. Over the years, Faulkner has managed to breathe new life into countless dolls.
Her business, Doll Repair Service, is just what you think: Faulkner is a doll doctor. She restores dolls and stuffed toys, makes custom clothing and also has a showroom filled with dolls for sale. They're would-be companions for children, or adults who like to collect the miniature people.
On a recent Monday morning, there is silence in her shop. No morning news in the background. Just a little Trouble, her Lhasa Apso dog, poking around.
Faulkner studies a doll's face as she paints on fine details, making it cute again. Within her reach are a welder, steamer, hair dryer, drilling tools and other items necessary for a skilled doll-repair artist.
Faulkner didn't really play with dolls as a little girl growing up in Georgia. There was target practice, exploring creeks, tree climbing and making mudpies, says Faulkner, who calls herself a tomboy and admits only to playing with paper dolls.
Still, creativity ran in her family. She calls her father a ``jack of all crafts,'' while her mother was always good at making something out of nothing. With that talent, it doesn't seem so hard to understand how Faulkner ended up in a doll's world.
Faulkner was inspired to get into doll repair after she saw a doll museum in Vermont.
``While I was there, the lady I went with said to start a doll hospital,'' Faulkner says. Restoring dolls seemed a natural step for Faulkner, who had ``done every craft imaginable.''
``It just takes common sense to apply that skill into the dolls,'' she says.
Faulkner had a doll-repair business in Georgia, and continued when she moved to Hampton Roads in 1985. For about the last five years, Doll Repair Service has been located on Virginia Beach Boulevard, across from Tandom's Pine Tree Inn.
The shelves in Faulkner's shop, stocked to the brim with dolls of every size and shape, are like something right out of Santa's workshop.
They sit patiently, waiting for a leg or an arm to be fixed so they can return to the arms of a loved one. Others - finished and ready for pickup - look as though they might skip out the front door when no one is looking.
``I do everything except mechanisms. I don't make them walk or talk,'' Faulkner says. In addition to fixing their ailments, she also knows the importance of each doll.
``No two dolls are ever alike,'' she says. When she repairs them, she tries to keep everything as original as possible and to get things in and out of her shop in four to six weeks.
``It's important to match whatever you are doing with the time period of the doll,'' she says.
She brings out a 19th century doll that has a face and shoulders of papier-mache. She seals the cracks to the face so it won't continue to break. Through the centuries, dolls have been made of papier-mache, carved wood, wax and porcelain. Faulkner repairs all kinds, especially composition dolls, which are made from a mixture of compressed materials.
Today's plastic dolls have a longer life span than, say, china dolls.
``Today's dolls will be here after the nuclear bomb hits,'' Faulkner says.
Dolls can be purchased from the showroom in Faulkner's store. Raggedy Ann is here. So is Dennis the Menace and a Santa Claus circa 1890.
They are joined by military dolls and a ventriloquist's dummy. Dolls that fit into the palm of your hand and dolls that you might need help carrying. Prices range from $1 to about $4,000.
For adults, doll collecting is done for love of the hobby and as an investment. Men are more inclined to collect for the investment or nostalgia, says Faulkner, and women are more moved by emotion or because the item is a family heirloom.
But whether Faulkner is working on a doll worth $25,000 or $25, she doesn't stick numbers in her head.
``Everything that comes through this door is priceless - it means something to someone,'' says Faulkner, who prides herself on being conscientious with everything that passes through her hands.
Faulkner admits she's ``almost obsessive'' about her work. But visions of dolls are not dancing in her dreams. ``When that starts,'' Faulkner says, ``I'm through.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photo
LAWRENCE JACKSON/The Virginian-Pilot
Marcel Faulkner is surrounded by dolls she has restored at her
Virginia Beach shop. by CNB