Beyond the valley of the Dawn Dolls

Here’s what it’s like raising two girls, both under age 6: There are no baseball gloves, trucks, hockey sticks, toy guns, bugs or video games in the house (actually, there’s plenty of hockey sticks, but they’re mine). There are seemingly hundreds of Barbies, piles of plastic jewelry, shelves of picture books and crates of dress up clothes.

At some point in the future, my girls may become sports nuts or construction boot-wearing car mechanics, for all I know. But for now, they play with girl stuff and I’m fine with that.

The girls’ latest favorites are vintage Dawn Dolls from the 70s and you don’t have to be Phillip Bloch to appreciate them. Dawn dolls are glammed out figurines manufactured from 1970 to 1973. They wear halter tops and knee high boots, use lots of dark eyeliner, go to a lot of parties and listen to The Fifth Dimension, Burt Bacharach and Sergio Mendes.

These are not 60s dolls wearing peasant blouses at the vegan coffee shop. These are I-just-did-a-pile-of blow-and-I’m-driving-a-Riviera-boattail-to-the-casino-so-I-can-make-horrible-choices-in-men dolls. Think Sharon Stone in "Casino" (the beginning of the movie, not the end when she’s degrading herself with Joe Pesci).

Hopefully, my girls just think they’re cute. God forbid they grow up to be Sharon Stone. I’d prefer construction boot wearing car mechanic.