Every year since 2006, I’ve gotten a Barbie Cake for my birthday. Judge me not. The Barbie Cake is something that I love and look forward to, because she is beautiful, sugary sweet, and smells like youth. Just like me.
A few years ago, I got a Hispanic Barbie in my Barbie Cake. I’m not Hispanic, and I have a decidedly Anglo sounding name. When I went to pick the cake up from the grocery store bakery, I mentioned to the baker that Barbie wasn’t representing my tribe. They comped the cake, and apologized for ruining my daughter’s birthday. Then they looked at me funny when I told them the cake was for me.
Other years, I’ve gotten cakes with blonde Barbies (also non-representative of my brunette tribe) that make hippies angry and have taken the blame for so many eating disorders in young girls. It doesn’t matter to me. I still love them, no matter what their hair color, bust-to-waist ratio, or skin tone might be.
This year, I decided that instead of spending fifty bucks on a mediocre grocery store cake that we’ll never come close to finishing, I’d ask my friend, Heather, who owns her own cupcake shop if she’d make a jumbo cupcake for me. Then I’d cut it in half and put it around the waist one of my Barbie Cake dolls to make some sort of cake miniskirt.
I should have known that the winner of Cupcake Wars was not going to give me some half-assed miniskirted Barbie Cake.
Instead, I got the BEST BARBIE CAKE EVER, and was reminded that I have a good friend. Heather made the Barbie Cake in the likeness of Kim Zolciak of the Real Housewives of Atlanta, a show for which I have an unapologetic fondness.
I love this Barbie Cake in all of her Sharpie eye makeup glory. Barbie Cake Kim is holding a baby in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, wearing a big old ring that “don’t mean a thing”, has her hair teased up and is smoking a cigarette. Uncanny resemblance to white trash at its most entertaining. I keep waiting for her to holler “SWEEEEETIE!” in her raspy autotuned voice.
Also? She’s delicious. Happy Barbie Cake Day to me, and giant wig-pulling thank you to my sweet Heather.