Hello, MamaT here, as Sasha appears to have dubbed me. Sasha has graciously allowed me to insert an entry into her blog. I wanted to add in just a few comments about what it was like to grow up with Sasha from my own perspective. In any childhood picture where I am holding a doll it is always Sasha. I owned other dolls such as Velvet (as in Chrissy and Velvet with the retractable ponytail) and Gabbigale (for a short time—until her voice box failed), and we played with our Dawn dolls a lot, but it was Sasha that held a special place in my heart above all the others. I remember once showing her off to a friend from school and was shocked that my friend thought it was strange that she had blonde hair and brown skin. I thought it was one of the things that made her so unique and wished I could have a blonde, tan-skinned baby of my own one day. (At that time I had never seen a Sasha with any other hair color.) I even confess to once having a crush on a boy based primarily on the fact that he was blonde and olive-skinned. Later, at least 3 of my sisters bought their own Sasha dolls as adults in the 1980s. I was still in high school/early college in those years and could only drool over the catalogs wishing for a redhead in a white dress or a brunette in a dancing blue dress. I admit I neglected Sasha in my teen years and have to credit my oldest sister with rescuing her from the toy box. Unfortunately, her original clothes were all long gone by then, but she was stored in a cedar chest until shortly after I finished college when I was ready to reclaim her. Being no seamstress, I cut 3 holes in a piece of a fabric for arm holes and made a wrap around dress for her, with a matching belt and hair ribbon. I also worked to retame her bangs that wanted to stand straight up, and I curled her hair with rag strips. I hope she feels better taken care of now then in those days.