I’ve collected 12,000 Barbies – this is how my hobby changed my life

I’ve been playing with Barbies since 1984. She wasn’t just a girl’s toy to five-year-old me. In my mind, she was He-Man’s girlfriend. A giant in the world of G.I. Joe. Optimus Prime’s sidekick. The toy box soon had five Barbies. Then 10. When I was a teenager, a journalist wrote an article about my “collection” of 250 dolls in my Barbie Dreamhouse.

It was newsworthy at the time, because in 1996, boys didn’t play with dolls. I have since amassed 12,000 Barbies, and was featured in the Asia Book of Records for owning Asia’s largest Barbie doll collection – a collection that keeps growing today, because Barbie’s relevance and beauty continue to bring me joy.

Eventually, I became part of a fan-driven Barbie enthusiast group in Singapore. Around 20 of us would gather at each other’s homes and spend hours discussing intricacies – like how Norwegian Barbie came in two colour variants, or how Saran doll hair curls better when set in a boil perm (best done with McDonald’s straws).

We’d talk about how Japanese Francie had a completely different faceup from the mainline release. Each of us had a favourite doll – which often changed as our collections grew. As a pop culture junkie, I was (and still am) particularly drawn to dolls from movies like Gone With the Wind, My Fair Lady, and The Wizard of Oz – they were my absolute favourites.

I wore my love for Barbie proudly. For decades, I’d step out in T-shirts with Barbie logos. More recently, I’ve added a Barbie phone case, socks, and even a few bag charms (or 10) to the collection. I’d get nods of approval from passers-by – the eyes of little girls would light up when they read my T-shirt. Yet, many raised their eyebrows, wondering why a grown man was decked in Barbie gear. Of course, there was criticism – especially as I became more of a public figure. Comments on news coverage questioned my sexuality, my upbringing, and what secrets I might keep in the bedroom.

These challenges can wreak havoc on the fragile mind of a 20something – but through it all, I’ve become stronger, learning to stand my ground, and fight for the integrity of my decisions and my family, who have supported me every step of the way.

I remained steadfast in my passion for Barbie. I’m now a published author of the book Flushable Fashion, showcasing my handmade Barbie dresses, have spoken at a Tedx Talk, and have been featured in publications like Vogue and The Washington Post. I became an online influencer, served as the global media strategy director for an international entertainment franchise, and now co-own a marketing agency with accounts like Toys“R”Us.

She’s plastic and fantastic

Fast forward to 2023. We all wore pink and went to the cinema to watch the highly anticipated Barbie movie. Director Greta Gerwig told a story of diversity, equality and inclusion; of compassion and feeling.

The Barbie movie craze was here, and everyone from Chanel to Miniso was caught up in the hype with merchandise inspired by the iconic character. #Barbiecore was trending, and we were dressed in pretty hues of pink, lavender and baby blue. 

Suddenly, I was questioning my identity as a Barbie fan. Part of me felt relieved that the waning appeal of Barbie was again embraced by the masses. What I once considered a niche interest that made me unique had now become a ubiquitous trend.

This mini existential crisis surfaced every time I saw someone in a Barbie T-shirt or dressed as the doll for themed parties. On the other hand, I enjoyed the attention, as everyone who knew me as the “Barbie Guy” would approach me with their Barbie stories. We’d exchange contacts, hang out at pink-themed lunches, and shop for Barbies at Takashimaya until the staff knew us by name.

It felt like the niche community I had first fallen in love with was alive and thriving again. We could once more dive into discussions about nuances, variants, and even quirky topics like release quantities. Barbie’s tag line – “You can be anything” – resonates with me on a deeply personal level.

As a child, she represented a weakness. But over time, I realised that what I once saw as a weakness became my biggest differentiator – and ultimately, my greatest strength. If Barbie tells us we can be anything, I choose to be brave.