“Not Everyone Is a Barbie Nerd Like Me”: Drag Race Star Trixie Mattel on the Power of America’s Most Famous Doll

Brian Michael Firkus lives in a house filled with dolls. Firkus is better known to the world, and to the superfans of RuPaul’s Drag Race, the show on which she competed, as Trixie Mattel. The stage name pays an homage to her favorite brand of toys, specifically her affection for Barbie, which began when she was “a little gay boy” growing up in Milwaukee and continues, to this day, with her vast collection of dolls from nearly every decade since its inception. Barbie means a lot to her, not only because she inspired Trixie’s fashion sense and blonde bouffant hair, but also because she helped Brian find Trixie in the first place, allowing her to be become the person, and personality, that she is today.

Trixie Mattel is one of millions who have been influenced by Barbie since her creation in 1959, and it is because of her lasting impact on our collective culture that she will be receiving this year’s Board of Directors’ Tribute at the CFDA Awards on June 3. It will be a celebration of Barbie’s 60-year reign as the most recognizable doll in the toy universe—one that has certainly raised her share of controversy, but is now more diversified in her appearances, narratives, and world views. For Trixie Mattel, Barbie provided a shiny, plastic dreamscape through which the drag star could reimagine herself. Here, she explains her own connection to Barbie and why she is the machine-made woman she admires most.

Barbie is great for a lot of different reasons. From the beginning, she represented the American Dream and changed the way that children develop. Before this doll existed, the best things that little girls had to look forward to were paper dolls or baby dolls, because at that time little girls were told that the only thing they were allowed to pretend-be was a mom. Then, Ruth Handler created Barbie in 1959 and she was sexual and womanly and she had a career and no husband and no children; she lived alone. She was probably the first super-mainstream feminist icon, but no one said it because they were trying to sell her to kids. Eventually, they created a Barbie commercial in the ’60s and wound up selling out in every store, after initially being rejected by the all-male toy industry at a toy fair the year that Barbie launched. They were like, “We can’t sell a toy with boobs,” but look what happened.

For me, Barbie is super-inspiring from a business perspective, but also because—at least, if you’re a collector like me—she is a snapshot of American history. Every single doll was made according to the fashion trends of the time and also served as reflections of the eras. In 1971, when the first Malibu Barbie came out, they made her eyes focused forward and not sidelong like a typical female doll in those days. She was moving ahead and taking her seat at the table. I’m obviously very passionate about her. I don’t want to say on record how many dolls I own because I don’t want to make myself out to be a target and have someone break in and steal from me. Let’s just say that I have a very eclectic collection that dates back to 1959 up until today. Growing up, I was never allowed to have dolls, so I would go to my girl cousin’s house and I would be like, “Oh, we are fucking playing Barbies and you’re going to like it.” I’d march up to her dollhouse and look inside and be like, “This isn’t going to work.” I’d dump out all of the furniture, rearrange it, and then redress everyone. It was just this magical thing for me. It was a way for me to pretend to be someone else. When you’re a kid and you’re playing with Barbie, you’re basically pretending and rehearsing for your adult life. When you’re a little gay boy like I was, I think I was subconsciously materializing the career that I have now with those toys. It’s really inspiring to think about.

But I wish I had my own as a kid. I thought I was getting a Barbie one Christmas when I saw a package that was an 11-inch box; in my head, I was thinking, Oh, bitch, this is it. Turns out it was a Ken doll, which, in hindsight is kind of funny, because if you think your kid is gay, why would you give him a toy of a man whose clothes you can take off? These instances in my childhood were sort of traumatizing when it came to Barbie, especially when my next door neighbor’s birthday came around and we bought her a Movin’ Groovin Barbie as a gift. Wrapping a gift that you want, for someone else . . . are you kidding me? It really was traumatizing. I’m an adult man and I still don’t have the constitution for that. It got a little better when my sisters were born. They were 10 years younger and I would babysit them a lot and get to play with their Barbies.

Eventually I grew up and was able to buy my own. I was a broke college student and a broke drag queen, but the first Barbie I remember buying for myself was the talking PJ Barbie from 1969. She was in a floral bell-sleeve minidress with go-go boots, and I was like, This is me. Since then I’ve been collecting, and I also receive a lot of dolls from fans when I’m touring. After Drag Race, when I got TV rich—or hood rich, as they say—I really started beefing up my Barbie collection. I’d go on eBay tangents, like, half drunk and double dare myself to buy 12 dolls at a time. It’s also kind of a great way to keep people from being attracted to you. I’m 29 years old and I recently tried to take a sexy picture of myself in my bedroom and had to crop out so many dolls. I keep them around the house, but most are in storage in the garage. It helps that my boyfriend collects action figures. And what is a Barbie if not an action figure with hair?

All of my Barbies still inspire me as Trixie. When I am coming up with new costumes, I always send pictures of dolls to the designer instead of runway images. Mostly, my style is driven by the Mod Barbies, the Twiggy-inspired dolls in the Pucci minidresses. I grew up poor and went to school for theater and didn’t know anything about fashion, and she was the one who really taught me what head-to-toe dressing was all about.

I am just a die-hard fan of Mattel in general, but specifically of Barbie because she is made to be projected on, so everyone has some sort of relationship with her. There are more Barbies in the U.S. than there are people—just think about that. The average household with a little girl in it has about 11 Barbie dolls. Everyone has a Barbie story for better or for worse, and she can get a reaction out of anyone. She is significant stylistically, of course, but also because everyone has a personal tie to her. They used that toy, like me, to tell their own stories when they were kids. It reminds them of their own families, bedrooms, their own hopes and dreams. For me, Barbie played a big part in helping me to realize, growing up as a little gay boy, that maybe I could just do whatever I wanted and be whoever I wanted. What if I just did what I wanted with my time and hobbies and money and didn’t worry about it? Nearly every boy growing up who is gay remembers that longing of wanting to play with Barbies or have their own Barbie. I think that’s changing, and I hope it is. Kids should be able to play with any toy they want.

Not everyone is a Barbie nerd like me. I think that the men and women who work at Mattel see me in drag and think I’m parodying Barbie, but I also think they see it as a tribute. After all, you can’t really parody something without truly loving it.

Originally Appeared on Vogue