Civilization is complete at this point, plus bizarre Tuesday Morning discoveries

Due to a monsoon storm, Hayden's editor at her boutique publication, Meygan, had to borrow her clothes. Hayden, being new to Arizona, is appalled by the weather.

"That rain... it's like turning on a shower head."

Careful observers will note that Meygan is articulated and has feet. I took her out of her box, decisively pulled off her head, and forced it onto the neck stem one of my thrift store bodies. The operation was much easier when no forethought was involved. (Also, no spiky neck stems.)

"Either of us would look good in this color,
but we probably shouldn't be matchy-match all the time."

This is, of course, Bratz Strut It! Meygan, whom I dug out of the back of the Big Lots shelves a full month ago, thinking that somebody would quickly grab her and take her home. She then proceeded to still be there on all my subsequent trips to Big Lots.

"Taxi! Taxi! How am I supposed to get home in time for Game of Thrones?"

This time, the doll shelves were loaded with basic Monster High dolls, priced only $1 cheaper than at Target, and poor Meygan had been shoved to the back again, upside down. Since I was still feeling traumatized from the left-my-house-keys-at-the-office incident the night before, but I hadn't had to pay big bucks for a locksmith because my landlord got home -- and I hadn't had to buy lunch after forgetting to bring it today due to still feeling traumatized, because my boss took pity on me and bought Thai -- the going rate seemed more reasonable than it had on the past six looks.

Also, I'd been to Tuesday Morning first and not bought things.

For instance, I did not buy mini-fairies, even though everybody who's anybody on the interwebz is buying minis and minis are adorable.

My mother will remind me of the Halloween when I couldn't make up my mind
and insisted on being an Angel Fairy.

We are neon angels!

I did not buy Swap Mart Beauties, even though they've invaded Tuesday Morning in force.

The African-American one comes in a two-pack, not a three-pack,
because she's required to be twice as good as the others.

I'm guessing Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and Cinderella.

Royalty of Grand Fenwick, Ruritania, and Genovia.

I did not buy from the hidden stash of J-Dolls that I discovered by sitting on the floor and burrowing through the bottom shelf like a badger. Instead, I sat on the floor some more while I read reviews of the dolls from Toy Box Philosopher and Never Grow Up.

Gorgeous clothes, but she's 9" tall, not 12".

Whoa.

My conclusion? They're gorgeous, but their personalities would never fit with the rest of my gang. It'd always be "here are the dolls I do things with and make clothes for and tell stories about" and then "here's this collector doll, way over here."

So I left them for the next shopper to find and went off to Big Lots to rescue Meygan, who is not high quality but who makes me happy.

A little research on the Bratz Wiki determined that my greater tolerance for Bratz today than when they were introduced in the early 2000s has much to do with the design dialing back the giant dark lips. Here's Meygan with the look I associate with Bratz. It still scares me.