Second, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Third, it ain't over yet.
This morning I went to the hardware store to buy a handsaw, rubber gloves and dust masks. It was painful sawing Reya's head open but it had to be done. It wasn't coming apart any other way and it was suggested by Blythe customizers who know way better than me. This has been one of the oddest things I have ever done. And it felt like something more than what it was although I don't know what that it is.
Because blackness is not the standard in many positive ways in this society, seeing Reya as a Black Blythe just kinda left me speechless and even when I f*cked her up on the first try I knew I had to do whatever I could to try and salvage the process because I just didn't want to lose her. But dayum! I will never do this again with a Blythe mold that doesn't come apart in three pieces!
A black doll shouldn't be so special but they are because they are so rarely seen in the mainstream market. So seeing Reya as a black doll, I felt suddenly that old feeling of false novelty that comes with being a "minority." I think all my dolls are special. I did even as a girl. But as a girl I was really able to play out my adventures the way I wanted to. As an "adult" I'm often not as free. I know better.
Crappy First Try
Success!
A glimpse of the future.
You can see the entire journey here. And it's not even over yet, because I have to put her back together again, find the right kind of hair for her. That's like the next chapter. Christ! I have a new found respect for the old dollmakers.
But now that I have gone this far I can honestly say I have created an original Black Blythe doll. Lets hope I can finish her up with less grief.
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