The Beauty Behind Bratz

Twenty years ago, the world of dolls changed forever. As Bratz dolls were brought to store shelves across the world, children could suddenly choose from a variety of doll options, and this variety didn’t just mean brands, but more significantly, ethnicities. 

From porcelain style to Barbies, a certain beauty standard had been set throughout history by something that seemed completely innocent — dolls. As young children would scan the shelves, only a small number would find dolls that looked just like them. Others were left to choose a doll that didn’t even bear a resemblance to them or their families. 

Bratz dolls went against the Eurocentric beauty standard that had been valued not only in the doll industry, but also on a larger scale within the media industry. Latinx and Black communities were, for the first time, finally seeing themselves represented by a brand. With an already apparent lack of representation in movies and advertisements, this was a big milestone. Between facial features and body types, Bratz dolls stood in sharp contrast to Barbie dolls. Although their varying skin tones were a part of what made these dolls special, it was also the features, like almond-shaped eyes, that made these dolls more relatable for members of minority groups. While this was a step in the right direction, acceptance wasn’t generated overnight. 

Although sales numbers would indicate the Bratz introduction was a success, the long history behind these dolls tells a different story. When creator, Carter Bryant, and investor, Isaac Larian, began to pitch these dolls to stores across the world, they weren’t as positively received as they would come to be in later years. The makeup and clothing choices were criticized, and many store managers questioned their potential popularity among customers. As some began to “take the risk” and put Bratz dolls in their stores, others followed suit. However, the harsh opinions of Bratz dolls didn’t stop when they started populating shelves. 

Some children were thrilled to see their long-overdue representation within the Bratz brand, but others weren’t even allowed to consider those dolls an option. The strides for inclusivity didn’t matter to the people who had always seen themselves represented in the mainstream. This lack of recognition and appreciation led to comments about these dolls being “ugly” or “slutty.” According to some, the makeup was too much and the clothes were too little.  Digging a little deeper would expose a much darker reality. Barbie in a bikini wasn’t provocative, but a Bratz doll in a crop top was. Barbie was allowed to wear makeup, but when a Bratz doll did, it was sending the wrong message. The differing perceptions on what was considered to be acceptable for dolls were not so much about clothing and makeup as proclaimed, but rather a deeper cultural disparity. 

People stick to what they know and what they’re comfortable with; that’s human nature. In this case, children were likely to get dolls that resembled them. While okay in theory, by sticking to dolls that looked like them and labeling the dolls that didn’t as “the others,” people were further perpetuating a cultural divide. With ignorant labels like “ugly,” parents might not have realized the ideologies that they passed on to their impressionable children. 

Despite public criticism and debate, Bratz dolls were a key aspect of Y2K culture. With trends such as body inclusivity and shifting beauty ideals, Bratz took those ideas and put them into something that would stick with the younger generation. Today, we see a variety of races, cultures and disabilities represented in the media. Twenty years ago, however, it was solely Malibu Barbie and Ken splayed across playrooms. While Bratz dolls didn’t begin the movement of media diversity, they played a large role for a generation that would come to constantly strive to improve inclusivity efforts.