By Cara Strickland
When my daughter was barely a whisper of a pregnancy, my mother-in-law started sending presents to feather her nest. That Christmas, I unwrapped a Sophie la Girafe — a friendly-looking creamy giraffe with a sweet blush on her cheeks.
Although that's the first time I remember seeing Sophie (we were soon on a first-name basis), suddenly I saw her everywhere — in strollers, held by little hands, packaged in every store I walked into, and on every baby registry I perused. I could see the appeal. Unlike so many garish toys, especially those meant for teething, Sophie is an aesthetic triumph.
When I discovered that Sophie's story began in 1961 in the heart of Paris, my curiosity was piqued. Unlike so many toys with obscure origins, Sophie has an easily traceable birthday. A man known to us now only as Mr. Rambeau created her on May 25, 1961. It was the feast day of St. Madeleine-Sophie Barat, so he named her Sophie… |
No comments:
Post a Comment