The Tammy Year

When I was growing up, we lived in a two bedroom frame house that was built in 1914. The ceilings were high, the interior walls were painted plaster and the floors were varnished wood. We were lucky enough to have an indoor bathroom, while most of our neighbors still had outhouses. In my parents' bedroom, one interior wall was a set of added on 'closets' and cupboards. This was long before the days of walk-in closets and many of the old houses still didn't even have the 'built-ins' that we had. People kept clothes in tall wardrobes or 'clothes presses' in those days. There were two 'levels' to the cupboards in that bedroom; the bottom doors opened to reveal hanging space for clothes while the top doors hid shelves where Mom kept the most fascinating treasures.

This mysterious booty included a wonderful set of Greek and Roman mythology books complete with lavish color illustrations (that Persephone--what a sexpot she was! Thanks for winter, by the way.), a couple of old medical books (from which I got my first anatomy lessons), a whole set of encyclopedias, a big box of old family photos, a few forgotten dolls, and little boxes of trinkets and odds & ends. That treasure trove could only be reached by a tall stepladder, which my Dad kept handy over in the corner of the room against the chimney. I spent many a fall and winter afternoon perched on top of that ladder, pouring over those fascinating old books and pictures or looking at the dolls and doo-dads.

One December day, when I was ten, Mom stopped me in my tracks as I began to drag the ladder over to the cupboards. I was about to have an afternoon session nosing through the dusty old stuff up there. She wouldn't give me a reason why; I just suddenly wasn't allowed anymore! She certainly acted very weird about it. What the heck? I mentally shrugged and wandered off, found something else to do and forgot about it. For a while. Not long after, school let out for Christmas and New Year's. This was my favorite time of year, almost better than summer even though the winter reprieve was only for a couple of weeks.

Sorry, but I need to stop here and give you some backstory before I proceed with the cupboard saga. The whole launch of Barbie in 1959 was excruciating for me.  I know!  What the heck has that got to do with what I was talking about?? It seems entirely unrelated, but I promise we'll get back on track in a bit.

First of all, living in rural southern Indiana, we were always 'late to the party'. I think the first Barbie in my town didn't show up till around '61. Or at least, I never saw one in real life till then. A girl in my third grade class got one for her birthday and brought it to school. Oh! I immediately wanted a Barbie of my own...desperately. That sleek and shiny ponytail! That black and white striped bathing suit! Those weird tiny pointed feet permanently molded to wear those minuscule stiletto heels! No other doll on the planet was like her. The girl in my class told me that Hill's Department Store in Vincennes was the only store around that had them. I begged for a Barbie relentlessly until my long-suffering Dad took me to Hill's in search of her. Up the escalator we went, heading for their toy department. It was all in vain. They were sold out and the saleslady told us they'd had a terrible time keeping them in stock. She convinced my Dad to get another doll, Debbie, instead. "Just the same as Barbie!" she chirped.

No. No, no, NO. Not the same at all, lady! Debbie was a weak and vapid imposter. Her legs and body were all one piece so you couldn't even make her sit! She was made of a hollow, lightweight pinkish plastic and her feet were big with clunky snap-on shoes. But Dad obviously wanted me to want it. So I acquiesced, picked one out and let the poor man off the Barbie hook. Did my best to let him think I was perfectly satisfied because even at 8 years old, I could tell he was trying hard to make me happy. I never asked for Barbie again.

The year I was nine, Ideal launched the Tammy doll. The commercials and marketing were formidable, trying to cash in on the Barbie craze. Tammy had an entire family, including both parents, a brother and a little sister, while ol' Barbie, apparently an orphan, had only sister Skipper and smug friends Midge and Alan. And let us not forget the ubiquitous and smarmy boyfriend Ken. While I still secretly longed for the Mattel doll, Tammy was mighty awesome too, and she shot to the top of my wish list and stayed there.

Then joy of joys! For my tenth birthday, Mom took me to Kresge's and I chose a beautiful platinum-haired Tammy. I'd wished for her for a solid year! On the way home, I remember sitting in the backseat of the car with her in my lap and falling head over heels in love with that doll. My mother, master of the sewing machine, soon copied half the outfits in the little Tammy fashion booklet that came with the doll. Good copies, too! Even a neighbor lady from down the street crocheted all sorts of fancy clothes for my Tammy every time she came over to visit with my mother. That doll rapidly became the best dressed personage on our street. Tim Gunn would have been so proud! All other toys and dolls took a backseat to this fashion icon. Barbie faded into the mist and Debbie the poseur was permanently relegated to her box. I was Tammy-obsessed.

Ok, now back to Mom's bedroom...I was saying she'd banned me from climbing up to peruse the books and things in that cupboard. Then one Saturday, she and Dad needed to go do some Christmas shopping and told me I couldn't go.  I'd need to stay home by myself, be good and not get into any trouble while they were gone. (Holy Moley, CPS would have been all over them if that happened today...)

But I was old enough to be ok by myself for a little while. Mmm hmm... The minute the car was out of the driveway, I was dragging the ladder over and climbing up to my perch.  Opened the door and...what's that??  Oh my gosh, it was a Tammy doll house in a box hidden up on one of the shelves! Now I knew what the big mysterious ban was all about. I could hardly believe it! To my credit, I didn't drag it out, open it or peer around to see what else was up there. I didn't even touch it. In shock, I stared at it for a few minutes, then simply closed the door, got down, put the ladder away and went off to watch TV...a Charlie Chan movie starring Sidney Toler, to be specific. Though my mind was not on that movie one little bit.

Yes, indeed, cool as a cucumber, never once did I let on that I knew a thing. Managed to keep it under my hat till Christmas morning and then did a masterful job of acting completely surprised and thrilled! Well, I was! Because not only was there that lovely little cardboard doll house with its set of cute cardboard furniture, Mom and Dad had also provided a Tammy doll car! A bright aqua convertible! Christmas of '63 was beyond my wildest, childish dreams that year.

Oh, how I vividly remember that special day...and many others with great fondness! What I realize more than anything is how hard my parents must have worked to give us happy times for Christmas and make our wishes come true. Best of all, they gave us some endearing and enduring memories.

Thank you so much, Mom and Dad. I'll never forget! 

Till we meet again...    

Till next time,

“When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness.”~ Bob Hope