Personal style when you were eight-years-old had way more to do with the Pleasant company than a trip to the local mall. Sure, there was always that one girl in class with the loaded grandmother who bought her every American Girl doll (aka coolest girl in the third grade). But, if you were anything like us, choices had to be made. Am I pretty and proper like Samantha? Spunky like Molly? Swedish (like Kirsten, duh!)?
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