So, last week, on a whim, I registered on eBay. I have put this off for years, but I finally wanted something badly enough to sign up. I was amazed at all the American Girl dolls and accessories offered on eBay, and when I narrowed the field to Kit Kittredge, I found plenty to choose from: Kit new in the box, Kit gently used with three outfits and no shoes, Kit barely played with in original box having smudge on cheek, etc. I lost my first two choices in the last minute of bidding. I am neither fast nor a strategist – yet. Or maybe there's just too much competition for this stuff. And I couldn't believe what folks were willing to pay for those used Kits! I reminded myself that I'm a grandmother who doesn't care about clothes and accessories. I'm going to make this doll a unique farm girl wardrobe.
Then, I saw her. A naked Kit. The seller said the doll had been "gently loved," and the photograph showed a doll that seemed to fit my criteria – one that needed rescuing. Somehow that Kit had my name on her and I submitted the opening bid, only to regret it when I looked at the other "Kits" in their clean loveliness. Suddenly I had the sneaking suspicion that $50 was too much to pay. I knew instinctively that no one else was going to bid on that doll. That was both good and bad – I would win the bidding but maybe I had paid too much.
And so it proved Friday afternoon at 3:20. The auction closed without the last minute flurry of bidding activity. I watched as the page congratulated me, the winner. I dutifully paid immediately and chalked it up to experience. One thing is sure, I noted to myself. This Kit needs me.
But – on Saturday I received a message from the seller, asking if I had noted the condition of the doll's legs. Polite discussion ensued. The seller said this Kit had been her daughter's favorite American Girl doll, and I thought maybe they were having second thoughts about selling her. After all, I still have my favorite doll – all of them – and I told her I would be willing to back out of the sale. In the end she found she could tighten the doll's limbs, and I agreed to accept her. I felt good about the purchase.
She'll be shipped tomorrow (Tuesday) after the holiday. I can hardly wait for her to arrive. Oh -- and her name isn't Kit – it's Shirley Ann. And now I've discovered a wealth of Depression-era patterns for the 18-inch doll of that day – Patsy Ann – that can apparently be used / altered to fit today's American Girl doll. What was my hobby budget again?
[Snow-in-summer blooms at the town house.] KW