My Plastic Mentors

Words by Stacey Howes (she/her)

Art / Luka Maresca

Perched on the top of my bookshelf, a dusty Bart Simpson figure is flashing his eternal cheeky grin. I can almost hear his defiant laugh. On the shelf below, Barbie sparkles from her hot pink box, her pearly whites and blue eyes on full display. This unlikely plastic pairing are powerful influences for me — guiding mini-me to adulthood.  

So, when I accidentally messaged a guy from my past, thank goodness my nostalgic coaches’ mystical guidance prevailed.  

As a little girl, Barbie represented the endless possibilities of who I could be. Her presence transports me into the past. Suddenly, I’m 8-years-old again, clutching my hard-earned pocket money in one fist as I enter the toy store. My pigtails bounce while my wide eyes dart along shelves of dolls. I wasn’t just choosing which Barbie I wanted, I was choosing who I wanted to be.  

Barbie was a refreshing switch from the baby dolls lying in the corner of my room. They may have sparked my nurturing side, but Barbie was inspiring. She was a vet, a president, an astronaut, and so much more. This proved you could have a career or five while being a parent (or not!). That’s some aspirational Barbie goodness. 

In the chaos of adulting, Barbie has evolved into a self-aware and vulnerable being. Originally perceived as being flawless, the 2023 Barbie movie deepened her character – following her as she confronted fear, doubt and imperfection. In Barbie’s journey to become humanised, I saw myself. Through her ever-smiling pearly whites, she embraced her imperfections — and so did I.  

It was Barbie’s reflective and inspiring guidance that remained a steady yin in my life. And the yang? A bold, spikey haired, mischief maker from Springfield. 

Bart Simpson was an unorthodox life coach for me as a child. At a time when adult authority was absolute and we were taught to not question the rules, Bart challenged this. His confidence in his own imperfection helped those of us who felt misunderstood – making me feel my voice was important too. I began to trust my own instincts, be my most authentic self and have fun doing it. 

Today, as a Social Work student, Bart’s ability to stand up to authority and challenge the rules resonates with me. As I learn about the systems that have failed so many living in Aotearoa today, Bart’s genuine and courageous attributes inspire me to question and rebel against those systems. This 10-year-old skater will roll with me throughout my social work career.  

Combining Barbie and Bart’s wisdom, they urge me to stay connected to myself, to know myself, and be true to myself. And when I comes to romance, I need this reminder.  

I was meant to press send in a friend’s inbox, but it went to this guy I had navigated primary school and college together. He was the kind of guy who was so effortlessly cool. Everyone adored him. So, when his cheeky and excellent reply pinged back, I froze. Should I respond and embrace my mistake with boldness and heart? Barbie and Bart nudged me to laugh at the humanness of my faux past: “Be your imperfect self!”  

With a laugh and a deep breath, I replied. Our messaging unfolded organically as we connected, sharing memories of the rollercoaster that was our youth. We laughed earnestly at old adventures, the mistakes we made, and lessons learnt.  

To work out my compatibility with him, my friend and I transformed into giggling teens and pulled out the ‘Love Calculator’. The (obviously accurate) results were in: 82%.   

Who knew that Barbie and Bart would be the perfect blend of wisdom I needed in all aspects of my life. They will forever be my yin and yang. In my ear, always encouraging me to be bold, be messy, stay playful, and be myself.  

So, listen to your plastic teachers. Keep your heart honest and your mischief alive and maybe your kindred spirits will skate into your life too.