Barbie is a strong, independent doll. But is she a feminist icon? It’s complicated. Since her introduction in 1959, Barbie’s impact has been revolutionary. Far from being a toy designed by men to oppress women, she was a toy invented by women to teach women what was expected of them, for better or for worse. Whether tarred-and-glittered as antifeminist puffery or celebrated as a feminist icon (or, at any rate, an important cultural touchstone in understanding feminism) Barbie has undeniably influenced generations of girls. In Forever Barbie, cultural critic, investigative journalist, and first-generation Barbie owner M. G. Lord uncovers the surprising story behind Barbie’s smash success. Revealing her low origins as “Bild Lilli,” a risqué doll for adults sold as a gag gift in postwar Germany, Forever Barbie traces Barbie’s development and transformation, through countless makeovers and career changes, into an international pop culture icon and now “traditional toy.” Though not every doll in the line has been a hit—with pregnant Midge and Growing up Skipper among the more intriguing disasters—Barbie’s endurance, Lord writes, speaks as much to Mattel’s successful marketing as it does to our society’s overall ambivalence toward femininity. With new accessories, including a preface on the latest developments in the Barbieverse, Forever Barbie “will make you think of America’s most celebrated plastic doll in ways you never have before” (Susan Faludi).

Originally published: New York: William Morrow & Co, c1994.

Since Barbie's introduction in 1959, her impact on baby boomers has been revolutionary. Far from being a toy designed by men to enslave women, she was a toy invented by women to teach women what-- for better or worse-- was expected of them. In telling Barbie's fascinating story, cultural critic and investigative journalist M. G. Lord, herself a first-generation Barbie owner, has written a provocative, zany, occasionally shocking book that will change how you look at the doll and the world.

Movie stars establish themselves as brands--and Taylor's brand , in its most memorable outings, has repeatedly introduced a broad audience to feminist ideas. In her breakout film, "National Velvet" (1944), Taylor's character challenges gender discrimination,: Forbidden as a girl to ride her beloved horse in an important race, she poses as a male jockey. Her next milestone, "A Place in the Sun" (1951), can be seen as an abortion rights movie--a cautionary tale from a time before women had ready access to birth control. In "Butterfield 8" (1960), for which she won an Oscar, Taylor isn't censured because she's a prostitute, but because she chooses the men: she controls her sexuality, a core tenet of the third-wave feminism that emerged in the 1990s. Even "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" (1966) depicts the anguish that befalls a woman when the only way she can express herself is through her husband's stalled career and children. The legendary actress has lived her life defiantly in public--undermining post-war reactionary sex roles, helping directors thwart the Hollywood Production Code, which censored film content between 1934 and 1967. Defying death threats she spearheaded fundraising for AIDS research in the first years of the epidemic, and has championed the rights of people to love whom they love, regardless of gender. Yet her powerful feminist impact has been hidden in plain sight. Drawing on unpublished letters and scripts as well as interviews with Kate Burton, Gore Vidal, Austin Pendleton, Kevin McCarthy, Liz Smith, and others, The Accidental Feminist will surprise Taylor and film fans with its originality and will add a startling dimension to the star's enduring mystique.

This book discusses the history of the Barbie doll and at the cultural reappropriations of Barbie by artists, collectors and especially lesbians and gay men.

The author recounts how she and her husband founded the Mattel Toy company, discusses her bout with breast cancer, and describes the breast prosthesis company she subsequently started

A daughter's journey to rediscover her father and understand the culture of space engineers During the late 1960s, while M. G. Lord was becoming a teenager in Southern California and her mother was dying of cancer, Lord's father-an archetypal, remote, rocket engineer- disappeared into his work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, building the space probes of the Mariner Mars 69 mission. Thirty years later, Lord found herself reporting on the JPL, triggering childhood memories and a desire to revisit her past as a way of understanding the ethos of rocket science. Astro Turf is the brilliant result of her journey of discovery. Remembering her pain at her father's absence, yet intrigued by what he did, Lord captures him on the page as she recalls her own youthful, eccentric fascination with science and space exploration. Into her family's saga she weaves the story of the legendary JPL- examining the complexities of its cultural history, from its start in 1936 to the triumphant Mars landings in 2004. She illuminates its founder, Frank Malina, whose brilliance in rocketry was shadowed by a flirtation with communism, driving him from the country even as we welcomed Wernher von Braun and his Nazi colleagues. Lord's own love of science fiction becomes a lens through which she views a profound cultural shift in the male-dominated world of space. And in pursuing the cause of her father's absence she stumbles on a hidden guilt, understanding "the anguish his proud silence caused both him and me, and how rooted that silence was in the culture of engineering."