When we went to this year's big doll show, I soon noticed a little swagger in his step. When I asked him why, he told me the babes were checking him out. The "babes" that may or may not have been watching him were in their sixties and up, but still. Since I hope to be there one day, I only have respect for those ladies. Plus, they love dolls, I love dolls, we're on the same page.
As a side note: In regards to Glynn's general studliness, it should be noted that there wasn't much of a male population at the show. In the couple of hours that we were there, I didn't see many men who were under 70-years old. Most of the ones I did notice appeared somewhat bewildered, as if they weren't certain how they ended up there and, having ended up there, didn't know what to do next. A couple of them had the sad eyes of the condemned. There weren't too many guys who looked like they were enjoying themselves.
The male of the species is missing out, if you ask me. Doll collectors are fun, interesting people, and they have such wonderful toys. Plus, there were so many amazing things to see! Everything I looked I found a treasure, from 1930's Shirley Temple dolls to Mattel's Barbie as Wonder Woman or Poison Ivy (2003/2004). I could have spent a fortune there.
Unfortunately for me, my eyes were bigger than my budget. If my eyes had been the same size as my budget, I would have had teeny, tiny eyes. (If you wonder how large a human eye SHOULD be, this post will tell you it normally clocks in as the size of a gumball. The same post will tell you many other eye-things, too...did you know you could sunburn your eyeballs?...so it's worth a gander.) Fortunately for me, I met a gifted doll maker who was thinning out her collection to make room in her studio.
Thanks to her, I was able to bring Peggy Carter home --
All in all, I had a lovely day. Hanging with my peeps, I barely thought about the terrible writing advice I was recently given -- but that will have to wait 'til next week.