Who Needs Barbie When You’ve Got Johnny West?

Was I the only girl who didn’t have a Barbie while growing up in the 1960s? If so, I have only myself to blame. Though I had several dolls, the only one I showed any affection for was a hand-knitted number crafted by a neighbor. Instead of ferrying its intended cargo, my doll carriage carried stuffed animals, stray cats, and the occasional toad.

When I was nine years old, our family moved from our rural home into town. This meant more playmates within walking distance. One of my new friends had Johnny and Jane West action figures. I found them more relatable than Barbie, whose body style and clothing choices bore little resemblance to mine.

Johnny and Jane had horses with bridles and saddles you could put on or take off, and fun accessories: chaps, vests, hats, frying pans, and even miniature six-guns. My friend and I imagined Johnny and Jane thwarting cattle rustlers and sitting around the campfire afterwards, suffering from the effects of too many baked beans.

Barbie of the 1960s would have been appalled.

I’ve sometimes wondered whether I missed out by not having a Barbie as a child. On the other hand, since Veterinarian Barbie and Hockey Barbie were years away from being introduced, Johnny and Jane were likely the best options.

I haven’t seen the Barbie movie yet. I probably won’t. But if they ever come out with a Johnny West cinema flick, I might be tempted . . .

Lisa Timpf’s speculative writing has appeared in Lorelei Signal, NewMyths.com, Polar Borealis, and other venues.