A New Old Doll

I have previously written about my great love for dolls, starting in childhood, so I won't repeat that information here.

Instead, I'd like to introduce you to the latest member of my current family of old dolls, which includes dolls from my childhood and dolls from my childhood I really wanted to own and never did.

Meet Winifred or Winnie.

I can't exactly recall if I owned this particular doll, since one very like her was given to me very early in my childhood.

I had lost her original dress very early into my ownership.

And I had done a pretty good chopping job on her hair, not understanding her hair would not grow back (I persuaded my sister to do the same with her dolls, too - whoops!)

But this Winnie is very close to the Winnie I owned, so I am content.

She arrived to my house in nearly new condition.

Now my kids will sometimes make comments about my growing collection of "creepy" dolls. This is Nancy, by the way.

But my granddaughter Riley, who shares a middle name and birthdate with me, loves to come to my room and see the latest addition.

In fact, on Old Calendar Christmas, Riley carried Winnie around all night.

Winne's hair is no longer impeccable, from all the love Riley bestowed on her.

But at least Winnie still has most of her hair.

Nancy

I have always loved dolls.

Baby dolls.

Liddle Kiddles.

Flower, necklace, pop bottle, storybook Kiddles.

Barbies.

Walking and talking dolls.

Chrissy and Velvet dolls (which I've never owned - yet. But I did have a smaller "Mikki" doll whose hair grew the same way).

Dawn dolls.

Rock Flower dolls

Paper dolls: perforated, with tabs or magnets, and even those cut from store catalogues.

My sister and I had dozens of story arcs for our dolls: Janice and Joey, Mary and Sherry,  Rock Flower storyline that involved poppies (don't ask). The list goes on.

A few months ago, I found "Nancy," one of my original dolls on Etsy.

More specifically, I found an exact replica. My Nancy had a smashed thumb, and I have no idea what happened to her.

Now I'd named Nancy as a very little girl for an older third cousin, since my cache of names I'd encountered in my short life was small.

I'd had another one named after a relative - or the relative of a relative. Her name was Lynne. She had a plastic head and limbs and a cloth body. Lynne developed a rip, so I handed her over for repair. I never saw her again.

And I don't remember who Lynne was.

But I did buy Nancy off Etsy, and she came in her original pink dress. I hadn't held her in more than forty years.

My kids think she looks creepy.

But they don't understand.

What child would enjoy playing with this?

"Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death"

As a child, I loved dolls, dollhouses and Gothic and supernatural fiction.

As an adult, I still love dolls, dollhouses and Gothic and supernatural fiction.

This was the most amazing dollhouse I've ever seen - and it neatly combined all of the above loves.

A must watch.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NiNBgs8-hE&t=31s

Side note: The dollhouse photo I shared is not from the video, but from the former doll collection of Andrea Magosky. 

Andrea, along with her husband Pat, owned a Victorian museum that had been their son's dream to develop before his sudden death.

They graciously let the BryonySeries team film the first trailer and music video inside the museum and hosted a pre-release event, too.

The Kiddle "Kollection" is Gradually Growing

My sister and I loved playing with dolls when we were kids. I especially loved Kiddles, but I don't have any of them anymore - and wish I still did.

And, of course, I never had the entire collection, which was pretty vast. I even remember the first Kiddles my sister and I received: Honeysuckle, both of them Kologne Kiddles. 

I'd also owned Violet and Lilly of the Valley. My sister had Sweet Pea and Apple Blossom. This last sadly disappeared. Every now and then, we'd get it in our heads to tear apart things and look for her. But we never found her.

I'd received Lemons Stiddle from the main collection for my eighth birthday. And the following year, I received the King and Queen of Hearts from the storybook Kiddles collection.

From the Sweet Treats collection, I'd owned Frosty Mint and Grape.

But as of Old Calendar Christmas and the internet, which makes buying vintage dolls so much easier, I now have two of the Kologne Kiddles. Both were presents from Rebekah.

The newest one is Sweet Pea, which, ironically, was a nickname Rebekah had acquired when she was a little girl.

Rebekah surprised me with Rosebud about a year ago. I had never owned Rosebud but always wanted her.

Not to sound greedy, but I'd still love to own a Crissy doll and a Velvet doll.

Also Rock Flowers.

And Dawn dolls.

And some of the other dolls I had when growing up.

That's not even getting into the paper dolls...

The Doll Room

Last Monday, my "An Extraordinary Life" story was about Andrea Magosky, who recently died from complications of COVID-19.

Andrea and her husband Pat Moagosky owned and operated the P. Seth Magosky Museum of Victorian Life an Joliet History in memory of their son Seth, who owned the house and was slowly transforming into a museum at the time of their death.

The Magoskys were very supported of the BryonySeries. We filed the Bryony book trailer and music video there; they (along with the Joliet Junior College theater department) lent us costumes for VampFest (our launch event, which raised $1,400 for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties), hosted a book signing, and had stacks of my original business cards near the front door.

Andrea especially loved dolls and devoted one room in the museum to them. I love dolls (as a child I played with dolls as much as I read), so I loved to wander this room and revel in her collection.

When the Magoskys lost the museum, they also lost the dolls. Here are photos of some of those dolls:

Stranger Than Fiction

Today I got to play dolls with my two granddaughters today: Jessica, 4 and Riley, almost 2.

Are you following me?

So Jessica put her new doll in the high chair and said the doll was hungry.

I, the gallant and generous grandmother, offered to make the doll something to eat. 

And so I went to the refrigerator.

Um...not what I expected to see. Cue the horror music...

Or, at least, The Addams Family theme song.