When I was seven I begged and begged my mother for a farrah fawcett doll head -- the one you could put makeup on her face and style her hair with a curling iron and blow dryer. Farah was such a hottie. My mother couldn't find the doll head in Barrie, where I'm from, so she drove all the way to Toronto (a big deal for her back then) to get it. I was so completely thrilled when I opened it on Christmas day. I played and played and played with the head, curling and re-curling her hair, until I was probably around 13 (which is way too old to play with dolls)! I always remembered that present... it was my favorite gifts growing up. Before I moved out west, my mother asked me to help clear a box from the rafters in her garage and lo and behold there was Farrah, still with some bobby pins in her hair and some sparkle eye liner stuck in the corners of her eyes. I dusted her off and brought her out west with me where she sits on my fridge deeply disturbing my husband. The end.