April, 1992
I have memories of Mother and me sitting out on the screened porch on Lile Avenue in St. Louis. We hand stitched clothes for tiny five-inch pottery dolls with arms and legs that were attached by heavy string through the doll’s body.

With the birth of my children, “little mothers” imitated my baby care with their own 12″ rubber baby dolls, which could be diapered and powdered. Many of these could be fed a water bottle and then they wet their diapers!
When Kathy and Barbara were too little to appreciate it, their Grandma Nonna, using two 12 inch rubber dolls, sewed a perfectly exquisite wardrobe for them. Truly an act of love. She had worked in a dressmaker’s shop when she first lived in Los Angeles. Madame Potts, her employer, created clothes for rich people such as the Dohenys.
These doll clothes were beautifully hand finished. I have a photo somewhere of the collection. Unfortunately, Grace insisted the girls be allowed to dress and undress these dolls, so the clothes no longer exist. What a collectible they would be today! The Big collectible is still the Madame Alexander Doll. I wonder if cousin Angele Bonura still has hers?
The next big doll step forward was the introduction of the “Barbie” dolls, now 40 years old! This doll was anatomically a young adult and what dreams my little girls dreamed. Some of the wardrobes were more costly than my girls’ wardrobes. These Barbie dolls include boyfriend Ken, cousin Courtney, etc. There are black dolls in three skin tones of black; also hair in all colors and styles.
Santa brought a 24″ walking doll which Eileen at age 5 dearly loved. Since Eileen has only boys, the doll lives at my house and tiny grandchildren still play with this doll. It fits nicely into size 1 real baby clothes. Now, girls, do you remember the time Barbara hid Eileen’s doll behind the Martini’s TV? The TV fit in a large cupboard open to the back. Six months later the doll was found!
About 1980, every parent went berserk trying to get a cabbage patch doll for Christmas for their child. The costs rose to $100 to $200. It was THE DOLL for children of the Yuppie generation. They were so ugly! But cuddly.
