A (very) Sentimental Tale of a Rag Doll

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWhen I was four I was given a ragdoll. Stripey legs, round red cheeks, wool hair, purple gingham smock, blue stitched eyes.

My mother had seen some rag dolls at a house whilst babysitting for a friend and got the pattern to make them from her. She made two, one for me, one for my sister. My sister’s had yellow curly wool hair, mine had brown straight wool.

I think mostly this doll sat on my bed for years. I made it some bloomers trimmed with lace once that it still has. I gave it a knitted jacket. My sister scribbled on her dolls face with green ink and then it lived in the back of the wardrobe. Sometimes we gave them a tea party.

Then they were given less attention.

Mock O’grade art and I decided to feature this doll in my work.


A pencil drawing and a funny ink sketch that was not so great but I got a ‘B’ so not too bad.


I left home and was a student; the doll stayed at home.

But somehow I still have this doll. Whenever I finally got a place to live the doll seemed to be there,still dressed the same.

Now I have grown up children.

It’s still here, the doll, cheeks faded,cardigan lost,patched up feet.

I tried to chuck it in the bin a few years ago but after a morning and a half of leaving it in the wheelie bin I had to lift it out. It really did not feel right………..

This doll, a survivor,still around.