
DATE: Tuesday, November 25, 1997            TAG: 9711250093

SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: Column 

SOURCE: Elizabeth Simpson

                                            LENGTH:   80 lines

NEW BARBIE HAS A PROBLEM WOMEN CAN RELATE TO

IT IS A RICH, wonderful and long-awaited image for the women of America.

No, not the new, plumper Barbie.

No, not her smaller boobs and bigger waist.

And not the fact the folks at Mattel finally have given way to reality with these subtle changes after all these years of stiletto heels and cinched waistlines.

While all of that has been great, the single image I've been feasting on the past week is this: Barbie - svelte, previously thin-waisted Barbie - standing in her little pink plastic walk-in closet, pulling out that oh-so-blindingly-blond hair, gnashing those pearly white teeth, and wailing:

``I don't have a thing to wear!''

For the first-time in her 38 years, Barbie will have a closet full of cast-offs. Those tiny-waisted skirts are history. Bring on the relaxed-fit Levi jeans. Those slinky negligees with the pencil thin waistlines? A thing of the past. Got any flannels in that closet, honey? And those Malibu bikinis? Pack 'em away, sister. And while you're at it, you might consider some Birkenstocks to replace those high heels.

Hey! Barbie's going to have to go to the Goodwill shop! Cool.

I am enjoying this in a way that almost embarrasses me.

American women may say we're all in this together, that we celebrate each other's achievements, that we cheer one another's personal trainer plans, that we applaud each and every career and parenting triumph, but there's also this: When we get said Super Woman on the other end of the telephone line, we often say:

``Sorry, gotta go now.'' Read: Now let me call some of my friends who have problems.

We'd rather kvetch about the gray in our hair, the wrinkles around our eyes, the collisions in the work-home balance, and, yes, our weight.

It's the real reason we all turned against Barbie. Yes, we may have said it was because of our feminist leanings, but the real truth is this: The woman never went up a size, even after Baby Kelly appeared on the toy store shelf.

For us, the expanded waist is sweet revenge. Now, Barbie gets to spend plenty of time like the rest of us: Standing in front of the closet. Yanking on hangers. Plowing through clothes. Uttering that quiet and desperate lament - ``I have nothing to wear.''

Ken, like our husbands, will stand before the new black hole of the universe and say, ``But there's plenty of stuff in there!'' And Barbie - heretofore stuck with that bright, no-worries smile - will shoot him a withering look that will melt his handsome he-man features into a plastic lump.

Now there's a moment to live for.

Yep, Barbie's gonna need a new walk-in. And for once I'd be willing to spring for the high-priced accessory, some assembly required.

Because I love a woman who wrestles with broken zippers. And safety pins that are carefully camouflaged to let out that waistline without anyone knowing. And buttons sewn on the very tippy edges of the skirt tabs to allow a few more millimeters of breathing space.

I can relate to a woman who admits to a weak moment with a box of chocolates and a carton of Haagen-Dazs.

That was never Barbie, which is why I rejected her about the age of 13. (She was 12 at the time, though you'd never know it from her bustline.)

And why I had a hard time welcoming her back after my two daughters - ages 4 and 6 - begged me to accept her as a household member. I've been guilty of casting disparaging remarks her way over the past few years:

``Look at her waist!'' I tell my daughters. ``Look how she defies gravity, and she's not even astronaut Barbie. Look at the color of that hair; she should come with a bottle of peroxide.''

But I might be willing to cut Barbie some slack now. After a 30-year hiatus, maybe she can be a sister again.

Hey, Barbie, sister, girlfriend, compadre, two words:

Sweat pants.

They can be your friend.

MEMO: To pass along comments or ideas, please call INFOLINE at 640-5555,

and press 4332.

A trust fund has been established for Rhonda Owens, the woman featured

in this column who was trying to find affordable child care for her

premature baby, Christopher. Those who would like to make a donation

can do so at any branch of the Bank of Tidewater.