Dear Doll Manufacturers,

My daughter loves your products. She can’t get enough of your Barbie-style princesses, princes, and bad guys. And, you know, props for releasing like twelve different versions of the same doll, but with different dresses on. I’m pretty sure we own four different Aurora dolls, you have some real geniuses in your marketing department. But that’s not why I’m writing. Today, I want to talk to you about the mother effing shoes you put on these Barbie-style dolls, and how much I hate them.

f doll shoes

These damn things are the bane of my existence. Everyone warned me about the pain of stepping on a Lego block, or the mess of moon sand or whatever that crap is called. NO ONE told me about the absolute life-destroying chaos a missing doll shoe would bring upon my household.

Let me take you on a little trip down memory lane. At a family birthday dinner at a restaurant, my daughter was gifted the princess doll she’d been asking for for months. She was SO excited about it, literal tears of joy were shed. She played with the doll during dinner and everything was delightful until we arrived back at our car post-dinner. It was then discovered one of the doll’s shoes was missing. An intense, multi-adult search party comprised of parents, relatives, and restaurant staff was dispatched, but the shoe never turned up. My daughter achieved epic-sadness levels that evening. When I wake up in the dark, I can still hear the screaming. I told myself that day, “Never again (never forget).”

But of course there have been other incidents. Like the time a doll’s shoes disappeared within five minutes of the package opening.  Or even worse, just two days ago when my daughter duped her father (rookie) into buying her a doll and the shoes went missing between checkout and the exit of the store.

This begs the question: Why do the shoes come off? Why? WHYYYYYYY? Why can’t you permanently attach them? Don’t tell me to glue them on myself. That’s your job. Also I tried that and I melted a doll’s foot with hot glue. Talk about screaming (my daughter’s, not the doll’s…that would be creepy).

I know you’re not making money on the sale of doll shoes. A quick search on Amazon shows me that I can buy ten pairs for two dollars. So please, I am begging you. STOP THE MADNESS. Start attaching these damn doll shoes or start painting the shoes on their damn feet. And maybe think about flats, even Her Royal Highness Duchess Catherine wears flats sometimes. They’re very practical.

Anyway. I’M NOT DOING THIS ANYMORE. From now on, I am confiscating all doll shoes, and they will live in a safe place (my garbage can) for the rest of their days. I’ll tell my daughter that her new doll didn’t come with shoes. This small disappointment is better than the inevitable meltdown that will occur when the shoes go missing (and they always go missing).

So please, do something about the damn doll shoes, for the sake of my sanity. My daughter is four – I don’t need her crying over shoes until she’s at least twelve or thirteen.

Heather Spohr