Let's Call Her Barbie - Softcover

Rosen, Renée

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593335686 ISBN 13: 9780593335680

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

She was only eleven-and-a-half inches tall, but she would change the world. Barbie is born in this bold new novel by USA Today bestselling author Renée Rosen.

When Ruth Handler walks into the boardroom of the toy company she co-founded and pitches her idea for a doll unlike any other, she knows what she’s setting in motion. It might just take the world a moment to catch up.

In 1956, the only dolls on the market for little girls let them pretend to be mothers. Ruth’s vision for a doll shaped like a grown woman and outfitted in an enviable wardrobe will let them dream they can be anything.

As Ruth assembles her team of creative rebels—head engineer Jack Ryan who hides his deepest secrets behind his genius and designers Charlotte Johnson and Stevie Klein, whose hopes and dreams rest on the success of Barbie’s fashion—she knows they’re working against a ticking clock to get this wild idea off the ground.

In the decades to come—through soaring heights and devastating personal lows, public scandals and private tensions— each of them will have to decide how tightly to hold on to their creation. Because Barbie has never been just a doll—she’s a legacy.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Renée Rosen is the USA Today bestselling author of Fifth Avenue Glamour Girl, The Social Graces, Park Avenue Summer, Windy City Blues, White Collar Girl, What the Lady Wants, and Dollface. Renée lives in Chicago.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

My Sources Say No

1956

Pop Goes the Weasel" is what Ruth hears when she opens the conference room door. She's jet-lagged but refuses to succumb on her first day back from vacation. Too excited to have slept on the plane, she's operating on coffee, cigarettes and pure adrenaline. She's carrying the foot-long carton that rode in her lap on the flight from Switzerland to Los Angeles and cannot wait to reveal what's inside. Her gut tells her she's on the cusp of something big, but even Ruth Handler can't imagine the Pandora's box she's holding in her hands.

Elliot, her husband and business partner, is at the far end of the table, plucking the strings on a red Uke-A-Doodle, the first toy he ever invented. He's not jet-lagged, because unlike Ruth, he slept on the plane. Nothing comes between Elliot and his sleep. Seated next to him is an engineer fresh out of Harvard, the ink still wet on his diploma. He's futzing with a jack-in-the-box, the clown's head bobbing on its coiled spring. He shoves the clown back inside, closes the lid and cranks the handle for an encore as another weasel goes pop. To his right is a man who rowed for Princeton in 1947 and is now loading a round of caps into the chamber of a toy pistol. Across from him is a Cornell graduate, class of '51, who's shaking a Magic 8 Ball and praying over it with eyes closed as if his life's happiness depends on the answer. To an outsider, they look like a bunch of men goofing off, but they are highly skilled Ivy League engineers, and making toys is a serious business, especially here at Mattel.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Ruth says, taking her seat at the head of the table. One by one the toys are exchanged for protractors, compasses and pads of paper. Gesturing to the empty chair, she says, "I see your ringleader is missing."

Only Jack Ryan can get away with being late to a meeting. No one else would dare keep her waiting. The rest of them fear her, and with good reason. She's their boss and is well aware that they call her Ruthless behind her back, which she secretly likes. Ruth is petite, only five foot two, and yet she looms larger than Elliot in many respects. Always fashionable, she sports a smart hairstyle, cropped short with a thick row of dark bangs. She's a purposeful woman, the sort who makes men say idiotic things like Smile when they pass her on the street.

Finally, the door swings open and Jack swaggers in like he's six feet tall rather than five feet, eight inches-three of which he's inherited from his imported Italian elevator shoes. He's been with Mattel for about a year now, ever since Elliot lured him away from the aerospace enterprise, Raytheon. Jack's only thirty and is already a vice president overseeing the research and development department.

While Jack settles in, Ruth lights a cigarette, fisting up the empty pack of Winstons she opened the night before on the plane. She'll cut back, she promises herself, but not today.

When everyone's ready, Ruth takes charge of the meeting. Topping her agenda is Mattel entering the doll market. They've wanted in on this lucrative piece of the business for ages but haven't seen a clear path forward. Until now. She's got the answer and it's going to turn the doll world on its proverbial head.

"We all agree that there's a glut of baby dolls on the shelves right now. The last thing anyone needs is another doll that blinks or cries or wets itself." Ruth speaks at a measured pace, to keep from jumping right in. She feels like a racehorse waiting for the starter bell. "What we need is this-" She ceremoniously places the box on the table, lifts the lid and removes the plastic doll inside. "Gentlemen, meet Bild Lilli."

The room falls silent. Not a peep out of them. Instead, they shift in their chairs and clear their throats as they take in the doll-her perky blond ponytail, the pin curl resting on her forehead, her long shapely legs, slender waist and ample pointy breasts. Dressed in hot pants and a tight sweater, Bild Lilli has come-hither eyes that command the room's attention. All twelve inches of her.

"Well"-Ruth drums her fingers-"somebody say something."

For years now Ruth has wanted to create a grown-up doll, but she's not a toy designer and her stick figure drawings never convincingly conveyed her concept. She'd all but given up on the idea until she spotted Bild Lilli in that souvenir shop in Lucerne. Actually, it was her daughter who saw her first. At fifteen Barbara is too old to play with dolls, but she still collects them. Ruth and Barbara were mesmerized by Bild Lilli. There she was. Like she'd been waiting for Ruth to find her.

Ruth bought one for each of them and ran outside to show Elliot. "See? This is what I've been talking about."

"Oh, c'mon, Ruthie," he said, smirking, "we can't possibly make a doll like this."

But he should have known better than to say that. She took it as a challenge, and Ruth has never backed away from a chance to defy expectations. He learned that early on when their budding company needed someone to make deliveries and Ruth volunteered. "No way," said Elliot. "You can't drive a truck." So what did she do? She rented a Dodge pickup, her high heels barely reaching the clutch. Did she care about the men standing by, laughing, placing bets that she couldn't back it out of the lot? So what if it took her almost a dozen tries. She'd be damned if she'd ever let anyone dictate what she can or can't do.

"Give me one good reason why this doll won't work," she said to Elliot. They were still outside the souvenir shop, standing on the sidewalk.

"I'll give you two reasons." He pointed to Bild Lilli's breasts.

"Ah, Ruth," Jack says now, "I don't know if you noticed this little detail or not, but ah, that doll"-he cocks his head to the side-"ah, she's got tits."

This sets off a round of hoots and howls, all of them following Jack's lead: grabbing at each other's chests, making lewd comments. She can't afford to let this meeting get away from her. But they're not letting up. They're not even hearing her. Exasperated, she reaches for the cap gun on the table, aims for the ceiling and fires off three shots. Everyone jumps with a start as the air fills with the scent of sulfur.

"You all sound like a bunch of goddamn boys in a circle jerk." She's learned to talk to them this way, to show them she speaks their language and is just as tough as any man. "Of course she has tits. That's the whole goddamn point. She's not a baby doll kind of doll."

"Then what exactly is she?" asks Jack. "She looks like a hooker."

"She's not a hooker," Ruth insists, though he's not wrong. Jack Ryan knows a prostitute when he sees one. Bild Lilli is based on a risqué German comic strip character who turns tricks while amusing her male admirers. "She's a gag gift," says Ruth. "They sell her mostly to men. You know, like a sex toy."

"So now you want us to make sex toys?"

"Of course not. Jesus." She slaps the table, heat welling up inside her. She's getting flustered, and if she's not careful, they'll mistake her passion for being overly emotional. She needs to be practical, logical. Drawing a deep breath, she backs up and starts over. "We say we want to be in the doll market, and I'm telling you, this is the way to do it. Think about it-we give little boys toy guns, toy soldiers and building blocks. And what do we give little girls? Baby dolls. Little boys can pretend they're grown men, brave soldiers. And you know what little girls get to play? They get to play mommy. They get to play house. That's it."

"And what's wrong with that?" asks Jack.

She looks at him, and at this roomful of men, and drops her cigarette in an ashtray, grinding it out with more force than needed. "You all might find this hard to believe, but not every little girl wants to grow up to be...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2025
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593335686
• ISBN 13: 9780593335680
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Auflage: 1
• Anzahl der Seiten: 432
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: BERKLEY; https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY; ; Unit 2 Limavady Business Park; Limavady; County Londonderry; BT49 0HR; Vereinigtes Königreich
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