My doll version of me!
If you’ve seen my Instagram before, you probably know I love fashion dolls. Recently, I took that passion further and turned myself into a fashion doll.
Jumping in
I’d wanted to make a self-portrait doll for a long time, but I kept putting it off. Watching talented doll repainters on YouTube inspired me, but I started comparing myself to them. What if mine didn’t look as stylish or well-made? What if I thought my doll looked creepy? Did I even have time for this project? Where would I find clothes? Would I need to learn to sew?
After months of going back and forth, I finally decided to go for it. I realized I’d been holding back because I felt like I didn’t deserve it.
Feeling undeserving has been a struggle for me for a while. It got worse after my father died five years ago. The grief from that, along with other stress and trauma—like dealing with an emotionally abusive boss—made me feel less like myself. I started believing the negative things people said about me, and then felt guilty for believing them, which only made things harder. I ended up hurting myself emotionally, almost as if I thought doing it myself would protect me from others. It was my way of trying to feel in control, but it only hurt my mental health more.
So, to break out of my cycle of self-criticism, I decided to just go for it and make my doll, no matter what my negative thoughts said.
Plus-sized thoughts
The hardest part of making my doll was getting her size right. I bought a plus-size Barbie, but I still had to add more to her cheeks, arms, chest, stomach, and hips. I used Epoxie Sculpt for this, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it.
I bought a plus-sized Barbie Fashionista for my base, and then I added Epoxie Sculpt to the body and the cheeks.
I never saw myself as a sculptor, but adding parts of my body to the doll made me realize I’m better at it than I thought. More importantly, the process helped me appreciate my own body more.
Like many women, I was affected by the body image messages from the ‘90s. Those years were tough for anyone who wasn’t a size 4, and even if you were, there was pressure to be even thinner. That messaging really got to me, and for a long time, I thought my body—especially my stomach—was a problem. I wanted a flat stomach and felt like a failure when it didn’t happen, no matter how much I exercised or tried different diets.
View on Threads
This thread shows exactly what I was dealing with growing up. And, like Raven Symoné, I literally wasn’t fat. But society told me I was.
This is how “big” I was in the mid-’90s to early ’00s.
These days, I’m starting to appreciate my body more. Strangely, this shift happened after I was diagnosed with fibroids and decided to get healthier for myself, not for anyone else. But making my self-portrait doll was really the beginning of this change. I saw that my imperfections made me unique, and that uniqueness is beautiful. I learned that beauty isn’t about fitting one mold—we’re not all supposed to look the same, and our beauty isn’t defined by our stomachs.
I did, however, have an internal mini-crisis when it came time to outfitting my doll. I wanted to find clothes that reflect something I would wear in real life, but with the added sculpting, it wasn’t like I could just get something off the rack, as it were. Luckily, I was able to find a pack of knitted sweaters that fit her. But as for her dress, I had to get creative. A regular plus-size Barbie dress wouldn’t fit anymore, and the sewing I know how to do is clunky at best. After a lot of searching and judgment, I found a pack of baby leg warmers.
Using a baby’s leg warmer as my doll’s dress brought up some old feelings. It reminded me of shopping as a kid, trying to find clothes that fit in a world where size 4 was the norm. Back then, being a size 10-12 felt almost unacceptable, and I often had to settle for what I could find. Dressing my doll this way made me relive some of that old frustration.
But I reminded myself that my doll doesn’t have feelings—those were my own experiences coming through. Using the leg warmer was just a creative solution since I can’t sew well yet. In the future, I can practice sewing and maybe make a dress from scratch. For now, I don’t need to feel like I’m repeating my own fashion struggles with my doll. She looks great, and the leg warmer works perfectly as a maxi dress. I’m happy with how it turned out.
Face painting
Painting the doll’s face was another challenge. I haven’t made many One Of A Kind (OOAK) dolls before—the only other one I did was for my sister. This was only my second time painting a doll’s face. It’s very different from drawing or painting on paper, and it took me a while to get used to the sculpt. Using Mr. Super Clear as a sealant also tested my patience. I didn’t realize I needed to wait at least four hours between sprays, so some layers turned out a bit clumpy.
Once I read the instructions and waited the right amount of time between coats, things improved. I also started to develop my own style. If I keep customizing dolls, I’m sure my style will grow even more, but I liked how the half-cartoonish, half-realistic look came through as I worked on her face. Overall, I’m really happy with how she turned out.
Some shots of the painting process.
The final result
Today, when I look at my doll, I see a version of myself that I sometimes struggle to recognize. I see someone beautiful and confident. Sure, it’s just a doll, but it’s also more than that. It’s a reflection of who I am beneath all the self-doubt, worry, and negative thoughts.