When I was 4 years old and still living in England, Aunty Joyce, Mum’s twin sister, would take me into town every single Saturday. We’d go shopping, buy sweets, and she’d spoil me rotten.
One day she took me into a big department store called TJ Hughes and their massive toy department and told me I could choose ANY doll I wanted. I looked at the shelves upon shelves of dolls – and quickly pointed to a little black doll and would not be swayed. SHE was the doll I wanted and her name would be JOSIE. My aunt was so sweet. She realized that the doll shook her head when her legs moved. She asked her if she had a home and Josie shook her head “no”. I grabbed her and did not let her go and told her that now she DID have a home.
I loved that doll. She’s been with me always. There are many visible signs of my love – including a chewed-off finger. At some stage she lost her hair and Aunty Joyce put some nasty fuzzy black felt on with super glue . I have no idea how that’s ever going to come off.
A couple of years ago I got a parcel from Aunty Joyce in NZ. She had knitted a complete outfit for Josie: underpants, vest and hat. It was a lovely thing to do and I was touched. Unfortunately they were too big for her.
A couple of Sundays ago I was at the Auction. I had just arrived actually. The auctioneer was going “It’s a very naked, rubber doll – will anyone give me a couple of bucks for her. How about if I throw in this blue coleman lantern? Five bucks and they’re both yours. SOLD to 120 for $5”.
I have my own number.
The auctioneer doesn’t even look at it now. I am just a number.
This poor naked doll needed clothes badly. Her paint was in rough shape too.
I gave her a face lift and made her some clothes. Josie got a new friend – and a new outfit too. And I have a little black doll and a little brown doll and nowhere to put them…