Don’t Blame Me, Blame Barbie!

The True Story of a Girl, Her Doll, and a Lifetime of Fabulous Stuff

by Gail Robin Raes

COMING SOON

What happens when a nine-year-old girl unwraps her very first Barbie doll?

According to Gail Robin Raes, it starts a lifelong adventure involving glamorous outfits, Dream Houses, shopping sprees, watermelon dishes, flip-flop collections, closets bursting at the seams, and more fabulous stuff than any reasonable person should own.

In this laugh-out-loud memoir, Gail takes readers on a nostalgic journey from her childhood Barbie obsession to adulthood, where closets mysteriously multiply, collections take on lives of their own, and a certain fashion doll refuses to accept responsibility for any of it.

Along the way you’ll meet:

Barbie, who insists she’s innocent despite decades of questionable shopping advice
Wendy, the sister who finally paid a forty-year-old Barbie wedding dress debt
Bruno, the husband who keeps asking, “Don’t you already have one of those?”
Watermelon dishes, beach treasures, flip-flops, handbags, and enough memories to fill a Dream House

Filled with humor, heart, nostalgia, and a healthy dose of pink sparkle, Don’t Blame Me, Blame Barbie! is a celebration of the things we collect, the memories we keep, and the stories that stay with us long after the shopping bags are gone.

If you’ve ever loved Barbie, collected something you probably didn’t need, hidden shopping bags from your spouse, or wondered how your closet became its own zip code, this book is for you.

Because sometimes the best memories come wrapped in pink.
And sometimes... it really is Barbie’s fault.

A Statement From Barbie

Darling,

Before Gail tells you her version of events, I feel obligated to clarify a few things.

First, I am not responsible for her closets.

Second, I never forced her to buy anything.

Third, every handbag, pair of shoes, beach decoration, watermelon dish, flip-flop accessory, sparkly top, and decorative item mentioned in this book was absolutely necessary at the time.

Absolutely.
Necessary.

I would also like the record to show that simply because a woman owns twelve black dresses does not mean she owns too many black dresses. Daytime black and evening black are entirely different categories. Any Fashionista knows this.

Furthermore, if a closet rod collapses under the weight of a wardrobe, that is clearly a construction issue.

Not a fashion issue.

I have spent more than sixty years inspiring women to dream bigger, dress better, and embrace fabulousness. If some of those women occasionally misunderstood my message and ended up with slightly overcrowded closets, I hardly think that can be blamed on me.

I merely offered suggestions.

Excellent suggestions.

Take the Dream House, for example.

People are always criticizing the Dream House.

“Too big.”

“Too pink.”

“Too many accessories.”

Darling, nobody ever dreamed about owning a Moderately Acceptable House with Sensible Storage Solutions.

Let’s not be ridiculous.

And another thing.

I am getting a little tired of hearing that I somehow encouraged excessive shopping.

That’s simply not true.

I inspired possibilities.

If a woman walks into Nordstrom intending to return a blouse and leaves with a pair of rhinestone sandals, a handbag, and a cute little jacket she didn’t know she needed, that isn’t shopping.

That’s personal growth.

Besides, nobody goes to Nordstrom to return something.

That’s like going to a bakery to smell the bread.

Now, Gail may try to convince you that this book is about clutter.

It isn’t.

It’s about vision.

It’s about dreams.

It’s about believing that someday you might need sequined sandals for a tropical vacation, a cocktail dress for an unexpected gala, or a watermelon-themed serving platter because it makes you smile.

Life is short, darling.

Buy the pretty shoes.

Host the party.

Use the good dishes.

Wear the sparkly top.

And if anyone suggests you already have something similar, simply smile and remind them that fabulousness does not believe in limits.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wardrobe consultation, a pool party, and a convertible waiting for me.

With love, style, and absolutely no regrets,
Barbie

P.S. Gail is exaggerating.

A Note Before We Begin

Before you read this book, there are a few things you should know.

First, I really did own far too much stuff.

Second, I didn’t acquire it all at once. It arrived one shopping trip, one clearance rack, one “must-have” handbag, and one adorable beach-themed decoration at a time.

Third, I blame Barbie.

Now, before you roll your eyes and point out that Barbie is a doll, let me remind you that this is no ordinary doll. This is Barbie. The woman has had more than 250 careers, owned multiple Dream Houses, driven countless convertibles, and somehow maintained a wardrobe larger than most department stores.

She set unrealistic expectations for all of us.

My husband Bruno would like the record to show that Barbie had very little to do with my shopping habits.

According to Bruno, I am solely responsible.

Barbie strongly disagrees.

In fact, Barbie insists she merely provided inspiration.

A lot of inspiration.

For decades.

As you read these pages, you’ll hear both sides of the story.

You’ll hear my version.

And occasionally you’ll hear Barbie’s version, which is considerably more glamorous and significantly less accurate.

Some of these stories are true.

Some are embarrassingly true.

And a few are so ridiculous that if they hadn’t actually happened, I wouldn’t have believed them myself.

So grab a cup of coffee, settle into your favorite chair, and join me on a journey through shopping adventures, questionable purchasing decisions, treasured collections, family memories, and one very opinionated fashion doll.

And if, somewhere along the way, you recognize a little bit of yourself in these pages...

Welcome to the club.

Barbie has been expecting you.

— Gail Robin Raes

About the Book

What if Barbie wasn’t just a doll?

What if she was the reason your closet is overflowing, your shelves are packed with collections, and you’ve somehow accumulated enough handbags to survive several lifetimes?

In Don’t Blame Me, Blame Barbie!, author Gail Robin Raes takes readers on a hilarious journey through a lifetime of shopping adventures, treasured collections, questionable purchases, and one very influential fashion doll.

It all began on a Christmas morning when a nine-year-old girl unwrapped her first Barbie doll. What followed was decades of fabulous outfits, dream houses, beach treasures, flip-flops, watermelon dishes, shopping triumphs, shopping disasters, and enough accessories to make Barbie herself proud.

As Gail looks back on the memories hidden among the clutter, she discovers that the story was never really about stuff at all. It was about family, friendship, dreams, growing older, and learning what truly deserves space in our lives.

Told with humor, heart, and plenty of conversations with Barbie herself, this charming memoir will resonate with anyone who has ever fallen in love with a collection, justified an unnecessary purchase, or insisted they absolutely needed one more handbag.

Because sometimes the best stories aren’t found in the things we keep. They’re found in the memories we make.

And if anyone asks how all that stuff ended up in your house?

Just blame Barbie.

Coming Soon

This book is currently being prepared for publication. Purchase links will be added when available.