The Magic of My Little Pony and Lost Femininity
On this Thanksgiving Day, I’ve been thinking a lot about my family and My Little Pony. The former is obvious, and the latter is mostly apropos of nothing other than I happened to read an article from Polygon this morning on the subject. However, they intersect in a way that is deeply personal to me and my transfeminine experience.
My gen 1 Peachy figure. Peachy is one of the earliest My Little Pony toys that I remember.
I still remember very clearly my first encounter with My Little Pony. Since I was raised as a boy, I didn’t really have much concept of them other than that they existed (because commercials). I never experienced the girls toy aisles firsthand at Toys R Us until my sister was past infancy (we’re six years apart). My parents chose what I watched on TV, and that ended up being things like G.I. Joe and Transformers (which I definitely don’t hate, another topic for femininity and toys for another time). My first real experience with the little colorful ponies was with my cousin. When I was really young, my mother would visit her sister a lot, and my cousin (a girl) and I would be left to play on our own. She naturally had toys like a bunch of plastic cookware and food, dolls, and … candy-colored My Little Pony toys.