Barbie Has Diabetes.
Unpopular opinion: I HATE THIS.
These days in the United States, the circus must go on and evidently, it was prime time for Barbie to get diabetes.
If you love Barbie, I love that for you. Your boat is floating.
Please consider my take on the matter an exercise in empathy.
The business of diabetes is extremely influential. I’ve observed it through my lived experience with T1D for nearly 32 years. As the texts from friends rolled in yesterday asking me about the Barbie got diabetes headline, I developed a few thoughts:
Who’s profiting?
The business of diabetes starts with a big B as in BILLION$. Collectively, the diabetes market of devices and therapeutics including insulin is projected to grow to nearly $98 billion in the U.S. by the end of 2025. The U.S. diabetes drug market is estimated to reach $75 billion by the end of 2025. Dexcom is raking in $4.60 billion by the end of this year.
You can purchase Barbie with T1D at the hot price of $10.99.
While Mattel states that Barbie “lets children see themselves in the doll”, there’s a little girl in America whose family can’t afford test strips, let alone wearable tech. Can kids see themselves in those shoes? Food for thought, $10.99 doesn’t even cover one day of living with T1D for the uninsured. Digest that for a moment.
2. What problem is this solving?
I simply don’t know but here’s a challenge that comes to mind–
The pump and CGM combo that Barbie is sporting would cost me about $8,200 yearly WITH health insurance. That does not include the monthly cost of a smart phone. In the U.S.: About 35-50% of people with T1D lack access to CGMs or pumps, depending on the technology and population group.
“IN THE U.S.” SERIOUSLY?! With the stats listed above and where money reigns supreme, where prescription writing is practically a sport, and where insulin has to be added to our Christmas lists. Gosh, what would international Barbie think? Maybe I can hit up German Barbie for an insulin run.
3. Who needs this doll?
Had someone (with good intentions) gifted me this doll after I was diagnosed with T1D at 11 years old, I would have had a colossal meltdown. Ice-cubes-in-August-MELTDOWN. I would’ve hid from my parents to cry while processing emotions that I didn’t understand. My highly sensitive self, crumbling from the scrolling image of people calling me “diabetic” and asking “can you eat this”. I didn’t have the words to describe my anguish so I pushed it down and toughened up.
That about sums up my first 12 years of living with T1D. I’m not a doll. I’m not a toy. I’m not plastic. And I’m not sure I love the idea of a symbolic representation of me being played with. Real life isn’t Barbie Universe. The real world of living with an incurable disease doesn’t necessarily include a pink Jeep and a Dreamhouse in Malibu… I would take the Jeep though… And paint it.
4. What do you reckon Barbie’s BMI is?
I’m going with 16. Now, here’s where the inclusivity line from Mattel starts to sting.
40% of women with T1D have disordered eating habits while 40% are estimated to restrict insulin. Up to 33% of young people with T1D report poor body image and problems coping with body image. The statistics on anxiety, depression, and burnout are even more startling.
Mattel states that the doll “marks an important step in our commitment to inclusivity”. Hm. Which scale of inclusivity are we talking about here? Is there a fashion line of dolls with incurable conditions on the way? Maybe migraine Barbie and flat-footed Barbie and Barbie with hypothyroidism will reach the market soon!
If we’re trying to make strides in helping folks understand the lived experience of T1D, there are events all over the country where you can meet a living, breathing, human being with T1D who would be happy to share their story. FOR FREE.
Barbie with T1D is an image of blue bubblegum polka dot perfection.
She’s probably not going to join me at a concert of my choosing-we aren’t listening to the same music if you catch my drift. My inner Barbie drinks coffee, has messy hair, talks to the animals, and sits in a garden where all she can hear are birds. In this place, she truly lives with diabetes and doesn’t have to show the world who she is.
She also carries a grocery bag that says “eat more fiber, save more animals” and probably has something green stuck in her teeth. But maybe that actually is just me.
Parents, if your daughter is more of a guitar slinger, cleat wearer, bat swinger, or wheelie popper, she might not be a Barbie.
Her star shines in a different direction. Nurture that.