I got my first Barbie when I was six.  She was white.  By seven, I had received my first of several black Barbies, all given to me by my numerous aunts for birthdays, Christmases, and/or for simply being a good girl, often receiving the same model within months of each other. 

These dolls were Barbies sure enough: high-arch feet, almond shaped eyes, pointy noses and pouty mouths. But being black Barbies, and this being the sixties, most sported shorter hair styles similar to Diahann Carroll's in the groundbreaking 60s televsion series Julia. This worked. It worked best of all for my brother who liked to chew on their heads. Black dolls with short hair and mouth sized heads proved soothing to baby brothers, especially teething ones. This is how I saw it. My mother on the other hand attributed my brother’s cannibalism to these Barbies’ uncanny resemblance to her sister, Sherri -- and she would go on to insist, “He loves his Aunt Sherri.”

Even so at age seven, I understood that if there was indeed a correlation between loving someone and chopping the noggins of those dolls who resembled that person, I knew this was strange, and understanding this, I felt sorry for my brother, his predilection, and for my mother in general.

My brother's bicuspiding tendency was put in check the following year when the aunts were able to get their hands on the longer hair versions of black Barbie, along with all their accessories. In the 60s, black Barbie had it going on: hair, clothes, cars, homes (no redling here). Today, black Barbies have everything any little black girl could want in a plastic role model, just like their white sisters.

This being the case, it should come as no surprise at Mattel’s decision to launch a new line of Barbies called "Back to Basics.” They’re multiracial, saucy and off the chart hip, displaying Lady Gaga-like fashion forwardness, along with ‘how'd they do that,’ weave-fabulous hair extensions.

But unlike Aunt Sherri lookalike Barbie, whose heavily endowed upper torso (okay, gigantic boobs) were best explained as hormones gone amok, this particular basic black Barbie appears surgically enhanced, endowed with doll sized (but no less eye popping), perfectly formed grapefruits atop her plastic breast plate. Good golly, Miss Molly, somewhere down there, Russ Meyer must be gyrating in his grave.

Though a kid, I remember the 60s well. It was a great time for being a girl: Easy Bake Oven, Chrissy with the hair that grew from a hole in the top of her head, the Hoola Hoop, Little Kiddles, the list goes on.  And remembering this, I just want to go on the record to say:  Basic Black Busty Barbie, I had a basic black Barbie back in the day, and you, BBBB, are no Aunt Sherri.

What next Mattel, a line of Back to Basics Ken Sugar Daddy dolls?