Make Mine a Troll
On May 29, 2019 by Speranza
Anyone who knows me well has heard about my devotion to “Trolls” (aka “Gonks” in the UK) the popular, hi-liter haired dolls that were very popular in the sixties. While other girls were collecting the newest Barbie, it’s probably quite telling in some weird psychological way that I was never impressed or even remotely interested in regular dolls and instead much preferred my growing tribe of Trolls. Each one had a different hair colour, including two with striking, snow-white tresses whom I presumed to be elderly and accordingly named Martha and Frank. I saved diligently to increase my collection whenever possible and expanded to include the tiny Trolls sold as pencil toppers or key-chain danglers although their hair was never the same caliber as the larger ones and would routinely tear off in one piece, like a bright conical flame with a stiff headband of adhesive.
This was always a sad moment because a bald Troll is suddenly a bit too close to a perverted uncle for anyone’s liking.
My own mum never warmed to the Trolls and considered them creepy, (“You don’t want those do you?” she asked hopefully at every new purchase) but she nonetheless gamely knitted some vibrant mohair wool into a series of slim, fuzzy boas for them and even a matching mohair jacket for Frank, lending him a natty sort of Benny and the Jets vibe.
The Christmas I remember more than any other was the year that I received The Troll Village. While these were totally different trolls (in truth, more Neanderthal with some unfortunate steel wool hair) the kit provided interconnecting caves and islands, a rigid S-shaped river and a series of palm trees. I treasured that set and played with it almost daily. (My nephew recently sent me a link to a Troll Village being sold on eBay, thoughtfully remembering that mine was lost years ago in a move – but I was disappointed to see how differently my childish mind had remembered it. So dated! So lame! Even the Trolls now seemed insincere and decidedly stiff).
But what I continue to value most about my Trolls was the lifetime ability they instilled in me to see tiny things as objects suitable for their personal use. As a mother, this was an invaluable (yet unexpected) adult skill, since I was able to point out things to Frasier and Niles that they had not previously noticed: “See those empty coffee creamers? A perfect waste basket for a Troll!” Beer caps, opened carefully, were picnic plates; tiny baskets could be Troll laundry hampers; old-fashioned lozenge tins were the perfect bed – and toothpaste lids? Obviously, juice glasses. I think we can all agree that a zipper-pull on the largish size (say, from a winter coat) is clearly a Troll’s ‘flip phone …’ I also hypothesized that the water hyacinths on our frog pond could be commandeered as Troll galleons during the night. As small children, the boys became so intrigued with this new way of looking at things, they started pointing out their own ideas and to this DAY continue to site items they consider to be Troll-swag.
I wonder if today’s kids will remember such a singular, favourite toy?
Dear readers, what say you? Does anyone else have a favourite Toy Story to share …?
Ah trolls! I loved them too. One Christmas I received a troll house (or maybe it was the same village that you had) that folded up into a sort of suitcase. Call me weird, but I loved putting them all inside, firmly closing the latches, imagining the mischief they got up to until the next time I opened up their plastic home ….
Great story – sounds like Tote-A-Troll or something similar. Excellent taste either way, girl!
I loved them all! And fortunately, still have them in the basement.
Ha! Sad but true …
As a young boy, weaponry was all the rage in my circle of friends. It was the beginnings of having a plastic weapon which was composed of pieces, when taken apart, revealed a new weapon. Kind of like Transformers, but all gun parts. Mattel created one of these and of course, I had to have it. Back in the days of everything being purchased in a local store, my mother had to order it from a store in the US. The story goes, as Christmas neared and the gun not appearing in the mail, my poor mother was becoming frantic, losing sleep, until it finally arrived on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. This story never came to light until I was much older, and to this day, I think more of how my poor mother suffered then the joy of having the toy gun.
Amazing!! I love that your poor mum was fretting – at Christmas – about a gun not arriving in the mail haha! She sounds wonderful.
Ok Sue…We’ll have to talk!! My sibs and I had a village of HO scale models we’d built and in the village lived the disneykins as well as the trolls who ran the brewery! My brother has all of the parts now in his house in Ailsa Craig, set up in one of the rooms….we used to write newspapers for the village ,written by Top Cat and the boys (Benny the Ball etc.) he is still writing stories and expanding on the village. We have names for all the trolls and on and on….I’ll have to show you some of the newspapers from years ago…someday when the world is in a better place.
Status of day = totally made! Thanks so much, Kim! And totally digging that the Trolls were in charge of the brewery – as they would be.
(Aside: I also loved Top Cat …)