The Doll You Love to Dress

One of the biggest regrets of my life is selling my 'Sindy stuff’ at the age of 14 for £47.00 to a woman who lived on the wrong side of the bypass, the social dividing line, created by the A52 which cuts through Spondon where I grew up. She got herself an absolute bargain that day. In return I got more money than I had ever had in my life to blow at Chelsea Girl, which had become far more appealing than the redundant dolls, gathering dust in my bedroom, a constant reminder that I was not really the grown up I believed myself to be. I wanted them gone and so I said goodbye without a second thought to my whole collection, the house and it’s contents, outdoor activities, everything in fact other than the dolls and their clothes. They went into the loft where they remained until the start of my masters. Liberated from their box to analyse the concept of attachment and value, they have spent the last 8 months residing in my studio, providing a direct connection to the best parts of my childhood.

A selction of my Sindy Dolls complete with 'Swing Out Sister' bob, far left and 'Papa Don't Preach' Madonna Hair, far right.

After receiving my first doll for my 4th birthday, all subsequent birthdays and Christmas’s were an opportunity to add to my Sindy collection. The best of which was the Sindy Super Home in 1980. On the build up to that Christmas I dreamt of walking into the living room to discover the huge present, that would indicate Santa had been especially generous that year. I did not think for one second it would actually happen, for as much as I believed in Santa, I knew my parents had a hand in it somehow and just couldn’t afford the hefty price tag. God knows they told me so often enough. Still I hoped and that Christmas morning I ran downstairs, only to find a pile of normal sized presents under our silver tinsel tree. The disappointment I felt was soon replaced by the anticipation of opening the presents that were there, for my sister and I were not allowed to do so until after the queens speech. Subsequently our Christmas days were spent bursting with excitement at the prospect, which always felt like a lifetime.

Christmas Day 1981 with my presents, a Sindy Horse and Action Kitchen Unit

I make it sound like we had a lot and in some ways we did, my Mum would literally wrap everything in sight to make it look that way, tubes of toothpaste, bars of Palmolive, school socks, a bag of KP nuts, a packet of Polos. That year once we’d finished unwrapping the last of our presents, my parents told me Santa had forgotten something and left the room asking me to close my eyes, returning moments later with what remains to this day, the best present I have ever had. A cardboard box they could barely fit through the door containing my Sindy Super Home.

The Sindy Super Home 1980

What amazes me now is how my parents pulled this off, we had no car, no outdoor sheds or storage and I literally searched every inch of our house to see if it might be stashed away somewhere. At the time, the only possible explanation was Santa, who’d come back especially for me.

While I’m writing this, I can’t help but compare this story with more recent Christmases within my own family where abundance and the certainty of acquirement seem to have rendered much longed for toys abandoned within days. My yearning for the Sindy Super Home was only outweighed by the absolute belief that I might as well have been asking for the crown jewels, and that in part is what made receiving it so special.

The Sindy Action Kitchen Unit with working taps, blender and oven lights.

I never tired of playing with it, getting lost in my own imagination, a world of fashion, glamour, jet setting, drama (it was the age of Dynasty after all) and dinner parties (Sindy came well equipped to host them). Aside from that momentary blip when my teenage hormones kicked in, I loved my Sindy’s and still do, having them around again has stimulated long forgotten memories, thoughts and feelings the contemplation of which has helped shape my contextual research.

The Sindy Hostess Trolley, my Christmas present in 1983

And like the other personal objects I have used to create my textile designs, my projects natural evolution seems to have created a place for my Sindy’s too. One that allows me to relive the joy of childhood and serve the creative and practical development of my masters project simultaneously. At one sixth scale, I can utilise offcuts to create, usually fabric hungry ballgowns, enabling me to visualise, pattern placement, scale, flow, silhouette and garment design quickly and easily. I design best through working directly with materials, playing and arranging things until I discover something I like, I’ve never found drawing to be a particularly useful tool in the initial stages of garment design, I need something I can see and feel first.

I am conscious that working in miniature could create construction issues which could affect my design choices but as I plan to scale up my garments to half scale and eventually full, any limitations will only be in the short term. I am also aware that fabric drapes and handles differently at 1/6 scale which I think could generate some beautiful silhouettes, although this could be problematic when it comes to scaling up.

The Sindy Slogan: Sindy the doll you love to dress

However, I shall worry about that later, this stage of the process is about experimentation and enjoyment and seeing where that takes my design. It is about reusing something that carries so much meaning to me, not just through the nostalgic rosy glow of childhood memories but in a manner that has the potential to intensify those feelings of connection and make them relevant to who I am now and what I do. It has always made me feel sad that the dolls that formed such an important part of my life have spent the last thirty odd years confined to a cardboard box. Now they will have a new lease of life as muses and models for my masters. ‘Sindy the doll you love to dress’ has never been more apt.

Right: My first Sindy Doll photographed 2020 Left: Sindy in her former glory 1977 Courtesy of the Sindy Museum.