Betty

(Scary doll warning)

I thought my next post here would be a week one recap of my so-called distraction detox, but no.

It’s the story of my newest addition to my office decor.

Have we talked about dolls before? How I find them creepy, especially when they’re realistic and are supposed to be pretty or cute? I know I’ve made my feelings on Elf on the Shelf clear, and most “realistic” dolls aren’t much different for me.

I have a small collection of Living Dead Dolls. They don’t scare me. They’re supposed to be scary, and that just makes them fun.

But porcelain dolls? Nuh-uh. No, thanks.

But then this past weekend I had a few hours to kill, and instead of driving all over town on a rainy day I spent them at Value Village, taking time to look at pretty much everything to see what I was missing on quicker visits.

And I found dolls. Tiny dolls, first, that made me think it would be funny to buy them and start placing them randomly around the house to creep my husband out.

But then I turned to the larger dolls and I found Betty.

And like… to me, personally, she looked like she might be haunted. Or like what Living Dead Dolls aspire to be (as my brother pointed out, her backstory would probably involve drowning).

I had to have her. At first I planned to just place her in the man cave, either on April Fool’s Day or when the aforementioned husband pissed me off—he watches horror movies, it would have gotten a fun reaction.

Long story short, that’s not happening.

I started to feel bad for Betty. She clearly wasn’t an antique—her synthetic hair was the first giveaway, even to someone who very intentionally knows nothing about dolls.

I looked her up and she seems to be a variation on what are currently known as “Walda dolls,” which were mass-produced in Taiwan in the seventies and early eighties and advertised in places like TV Guide*. Very cheap, very common, very creepy. She’s not wearing the calico pioneer dress they were usually sold with, but I’ve seen one other photo of one wearing her little sailor dress, so who knows?

Anyway, she’s common. She’s not sought after by collectors. Her hair is thinly rooted and one leg was falling off.

So OBVIOUSLY she got a spa day.

Clean hair, clean dress, a few minor repairs, and now she’s sitting on a shelf with my more intentionally creepy dolls.

…but Betty isn’t the only scary doll I found.

The other is a different case. A numbered collector’s item that presumably cost some money, and which, more shockingly, was apparently supposed to be adorable.

Demonic Debbie (as I’m calling her) came home with me but will not be staying. Some things are too much for even me.

Thoughts and prayers to the person who asked me to pick her up and the person they’re passing her along to.

*any information here is based on me googling. I’m doing my best, but info is scarce. Apparently they’re called Waldas as a reference to “Where’s Waldo?” Like Waldo, she’s everywhere if you look hard enough. Can’t say I’ve ever seen one myself, but there you go.