Barbie Rejected Me And I’m Forever Grateful
Picture me with juice stained lips and messy pigtails under the shade of a California Eucalyptus. The year is 1994 and I’m on my hands and knees rolling my Magical Barbie Motor Ho through the grass — navigating the miniature RV through my very own carefully curated Barbie dreamland complete with all the accessories a six year old girl could ever want. The shoes. The skirts. The dresses. Skipper. Ken. And every individual Barbie doll you could ever imagine.
I was always a Barbie girl.
The Magical Motor Home that made all my childhood Barbie adventures come alive.
I don’t know how or when I started playing with my favorite blonde plastic figurine, but in flipping through old photo albums — it’s nearly impossible to find me without a Barbie or two by my side. I remember I used to strap Barbie into her bubblegum pink convertible and drive her around my bedroom while I conjured up wild and dreamy adventures in my imagination that she and I could embark on together. I called them Barbie escapades. When Barbie wasn’t going on yet another escapade (trust me, she was always going somewhere), I was busy dressing Barbie in her latest fashions or sometimes chopping off her luscious hair to shake things up. And if that wasn’t enough — sometimes I would even load up the VHS with my Barbie dance workout video because, I too, wanted to dance and move like Barbie.
While I always knew that she was a plastic doll with strange body proportions, in a lot of ways — Barbie was not just a toy to occupy me after the hours I spent crying over my math homework every night — she was my partner in crime because with a little imagination, wonder, and curiosity — adventure, even on the floor of my bedroom, was never too far away.
As I’ve grown up, I’ve never lost my love for Barbie. Even in my women’s studies classes in college when Barbie and Mattel would come up as problematic and my peers would call her a vapid bimbo, I would always defend my plastic friend because while I spent the bulk of my childhood reading, writing, painting, going into student council politics, and dancing — I began to see that all the creative muscles that drove me to embark on these new ventures all started as thoughts during my Barbie escapades.
Picture me sitting at my desk in ratty pajamas as the Atlanta sunshine beams through my apartment skylight. The year is 2020 and we are all currently living in a pandemic. My laptop makes a bing I don’t recognize and shortly after, I see I’ve been tagged on LinkedIn: “Mattel is hiring a Social Media Manager for Barbie. Charlsie would be the perfect fit for this job.”
I took this photo at the Licensing Expo in Las Vegas on June 12, 2012 when I was there for a trade show and stopped by the Barbie booth. Note the caption.
Ever since I got into marketing and social media nearly 10 years ago, I’ve constantly been pursuing blue chip brands, the hottest products, the most prestigious experiences, and the opportunity to work with agents of change. When I was at The Elf on the Shelf — yes, America’s favorite Christmas tradition — I would constantly say to my team: “What would Barbie do? What is the Barbie standard? Would Barbie push this out? How can we be better like Mattel and Barbie?” When I decided to leave my Marketing Manager role at The Elf on the Shelf, I kept thinking: “It will never get better than this unless I work for Mattel and become the voice of Barbie on social.”
Over the last many years, in private conversations — I’ve always whispered about my dream job being the voice of Barbie on social. I always secretly dreamt about what it would be like to brainstorm and write copy and curate one-of-a-kind strategies and content for a larger than life figure — a true icon. I even dreamed about what it would be like to work at the Mattel HQ in Los Angeles and how I could make my own mark on this iconic and historical brand. I would daydream about what I could bring to the table if the opportunity would ever arise.
After nearly shitting my pants and feeling endless imposter syndrome for a good hour after that LinkedIn comment rolled in, I did what I had to do — I wrote the best cover letter of my life, submitted my resume, forgot to breathe for 40 seconds and then sent my materials off to Mattel.
And then everything happened oh so quickly.
First, the Talent Acquisition Manager called me and gave me a quick rundown about the position. She asked if I would be willing to relocate to Los Angeles. Yes. She asked if I had experience with this social platform and that social platform. Yes. She asked if I knew about analytics. Yes. She asked if I ever managed a team. Yes. She asked about my salary requirements. She asked if I was still interested.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Cats out of the bag — I prep for all my client interviews, presentations, strategy sessions, and brainstorms with Post-It walls. And no, I’m not a Virgo.
She shared that this role had endless candidates. Of course it did, who wouldn’t want to manage Barbie’s social media? However, the team was eager to narrow down the playing field and the Talent Acquisition Manager told me she was moving me onto the next round to meet with the people who could be my potential coworkers
A day or two later, I found myself booked up for nearly three hours meeting with different members from the social and digital team via Zoom. Maybe I was too excited. Maybe I was too passionate. Maybe I was overly prepared (a trait that so deeply lives in my bones). But after the three hours were up, I couldn’t help but feel like something didn’t click.
I wore the most unapologetically me dress — colorful and flattering. When it was said and done, I looked in the mirror and felt like my six year old self would have been proud. My 32 year old self was proud, but honestly — I was mostly disappointed and I had a pit in my stomach.
So, I thought that was it. I thought I would never hear from Mattel again. I took down my post-it wall that I created to prep. I was done.
And then the Talent Acquisition Manager called me a day later to say I made it to the final round. It would be between one other person and myself.
Despite the pit in my stomach saying, “This doesn’t feel right,” the Barbie girl inside of me — told me to persevere. The Barbie girl inside of me told me to imagine what could happen if, at the end of it all, they picked me.
“When it was said and done, I looked in the mirror and felt like my six year old self would have been proud. My 32 year old self was proud, but honestly — I was mostly disappointed and I had a pit in my stomach. ”
The final round with Mattel required a presentation where I had to create a fake sustainable fashion accessory and show how I would market it across social channels, how I would engage the audience, how I would strategically plan and create content, how much I would spend for paid social opportunities, and how I would ensure I was appropriately curating a successful brand on social. The presentation needed to be 10 slides and I would have 15 minutes in full to present it to a panel of seven.
I came up with a sustainable, biodegradable scrunchie fashion accessory. Between the strategy and concept phases, the copy, the graphics, and then putting the actual presentation together — I spent 15 hours crafting my presentation with only 15 minutes to share it via Zoom.
My presentation went off without a hitch. Truly, I wouldn’t have changed a single thing. It could not have gone better in my book. Even now — a few months later — I’m beaming at how much I nailed it. However, after my 15 minutes of doing my song and dance — the show was over, I logged out of Zoom, took a deep breath and realized immediately that if I got the job offer … I would have a lot of questions and concerns to address before saying yes.
Lucky for me, I didn’t have to address any of those concerns about accepting this dream job because they offered the position to the other candidate. Yes, it’s an honor to have made it into the final two. Yes, it’s remarkable to fly so close to a dream that has always circulated my mind. And yes, it sucks.
“I realized it wasn’t what I wanted after all. And somehow figuring that out was everything.”
But whether you believe it or not — Mattel turning me down for the role of Barbie’s Social Media Manager was one of the greatest things that happened to me this year. Truly.
I am animated. I am filled with enthusiasm. I live, eat, breathe passion for the work that I do. And I want nothing more than to work with a team of people who have the same energy and the same drive as me. I am an acquired taste, but I am a beast with creative and strategic visions that produce results and I want to find a home for my creative and strategic talents that can inspire me and help me grow while I can help my team stay inspired while growing themselves.
Mattel is a conglomerate and it is very much rooted in the status quo — it’s going to be a safe company with safe decisions, always. There is nothing wrong with that, but when I look at Barbie — the Barbie I have so loved since I was a little girl wearing jellies and fruit patterned dresses — I personally want more for her. Despite not being hired to help evolve Barbie through social media, this process was able to help me see clearly for the first time in a long time — dreams come and go and sometimes the dream you dream isn’t anywhere close to reality and sometimes that works out to be the best option for you (whether you like it or not).
When this opportunity presented itself and I started to fly too close to the sun — the reality of what could have been … I realized it wasn’t what I wanted after all and somehow figuring that out was everything. It’s exciting to know brand new dreams and experiences are out there waiting for me and it’s thrilling to know I have the time and the opportunity to explore what dream I want to pursue next. It’s also enthralling to know that I made it as far as I did and while rejection stings, it carries forth a ton of perspective.
I’m still a Barbie girl. I’ll always be one. I will still admire the work they do, but I am so grateful that Mattel rejected me because at the end of the day — I want to do the most progressive, meaningful work possible and this “no” has opened up the doors to endless possibilities while teaching me that rejection isn’t always a negative — it’s a full-fledged opportunity to turn the page and start anew because just like Barbie says, “You can be anything.”