This is Susan. Basically the newest member of our family. So when I was at the Estate Sale looking at all these amazing doll clothes and trying to figure out how I could justify purchasing some of these gems, well it turns out some of those clothes were made for this little doll on a nearby shelf. PSP begged to buy her and the accompanying outfits we found. After some proper begging, we agreed. But she had to use her own money. Probably the best 10 dollars she's ever spent. After suggesting a few period appropriate names she immediately decided on Susan.
PSP was never one for babies or even dolls in general. And even when she's really wanted and loved a toy and has actually gotten that toy, her reaction has always been rather underwhelming. A little, Oh look at that. Santa brought me that toy I wanted....how nice. But Susan... Susan has brought out some serious love in this girl. She dresses her every day, several times a day. She fixes her hair constantly. She tucks her bed and talks about her all the time. She asks Lamp to watch over her while she's at school. She loves Susan.
Luckily she happened to have an extra purple suitcase on hand--the perfect place to keep Susan's dainty wardrobe. I have to say, the vintage loving thrifter in me loves that she loves Susan so much. In a world filled with Bratz and Monster High dolls, I'll take a Susan any day. And like I said, it gave me a reason to buy some amazing, vintage doll cloths. Like this little party dress, complete with pinafore.
PSP really understands this doll is special in a they-don't-make-them-like-they-used-to sort of way. She told me she's not ever going to take off her shoes. When I suggested taking Susan to school for show and tell she shook her head and instead asked if she could just bring some pictures of Susan. She didn't want to risk a day in the backpack.
Admittedly, I'm a little jealous of Susan's wardrobe... especially her nightgown and robe combo. So very Betty Draper. And get this, her hair even grows. It took us a few minutes to figure out what the button on her belly and the turning-knob on her back were for. Push the button to pull the hair out, and turn the knob to bring it back in. The unfortunate part came when the internal string broke that attached the two. B came to the rescue and fixed Susan, but when he had to remove her head to do the job, PSP came unglued. Crying and sobbing. It was genuine anguish.
If that's not love, I don't know what is.
But c'mon, you're not a real member of the family unless you have your head ripped off from time to time.