A visit to American Girl

If you regularly spend time with a girl around the age of 8, you know all about American Girl. You’ve probably spent time going over the catalog in minute detail and know the back stories of every doll — Felicity, the girl of Colonial times; Addy, who fled slavery in Civil War times; Kit, the Depression-era wanna-be journalist; Julie, the 1970s doll who specializes in making 41-year-old moms feel old.

There are more — oh yes, there are more — and they all come with appropriate outfits (sold separately), accessories and book series that chronicle their era-appropriate plucky personalities. The special allure of the dolls? They’re well-crafted, wholesome, just expensive enough to be special and you just can’t find them at Target or Toys R Us. You need to get that all-important catalog or visit their website… or travel to one of their exceedingly rare stores.

You used to have to go to Chicago for that and, in recent years, New York City. As of last weekend, however, all you have to do is travel to… Natick. Yes, they’re calling it American Girl Boston, but it’s actually right at the Natick mall (I’m no longer contractually obligated to refer to it by that stupid name!).

So listen up, moms of Grafton. I have braved the American Girl store, cleared that path down the Mass Pike first so you don’t have to go there unaware. And I’m here to report that it is total and complete little girl crack. You’re definitely going to have to give the pre-Disneyworld pep talk: “You’re going to want everything, but we’re not going to GET everything, OK?”

Let’s start with the store’s location. It’s at the Natick mall, but it’s not accessible from inside the mall. Unless you’re one of the handful of people lucky enough to get around all the construction and the giant line that consistently surrounds the Cheesecake Factory to snag an actual parking space at the front of the mall, this means you’re going to have to parade through the mall, walk through Lord & Taylor, slip out a side entrance, dodge hungry customers around the Cheesecake Factory and finally find the American Girl storefront.

There are virtually no signs inside the mall that indicate any of this. We finally tackled a mother carrying a giant red American Girl bag and she let us in on the secret.

The store itself is two stories, with the first floor devoted to each of the historical dolls and Bitty Baby, the baby doll that serves as American Girl’s gateway drug for the younger set. The second floor has the “Just Like You” dolls — they come in a variety of skin tones, hair types and eye colors to match your girl — a bistro and a doll hair salon.

You heard me. I said doll hair salon. You can bring your doll along and for $10-$20, you can watch as they strap your doll into a tiny red barber chair for a fun new hairstyle. For $14, she can even get her ears pierced.

In the Bistro, they even provide a tiny chair that straps onto the table so your doll can be part of the dining experience. The place was mobbed when we were there — it’s already a popular birthday party destination, judging by the girls we saw — and I was surprised to see when I looked online just now that the set menu price is $16.50. Why is that surprising? It also notes the set price for the American Girl restaurants elsewhere — the same meal costs $14.50 in Atlanta or Dallas.

Throughout the store, glass cases contain dolls modeling various outfits and accessories (I love that Kit, who has to pinch pennies during the Depression, has some of the most expensive accessories, including a $250 tree house). My daughter happily wandered from case to case picking out her favorite outfits and pointing out wherever “Crystal,” her Just Like You doll (brown wavy hair with highlights, light skin, freckles, blue eyes she wishes were hazel), was on display.

She was actually a little overwhelmed by the whole place and we left with only a catalog and a mental list of the things she wants to find under the tree Christmas morning. We grabbed a quick snack in the regular food court after making our way back into the main mall (seriously, they have to set up a traffic cop in that parking lot before some little girl and her doll gets hit).

“We saw this outfit,” she mused, flipping through the pages for her favorites. “And this one, and this one. You know, I’m glad we didn’t bring Crystal.”

“Why not?”

She gave me her 8-year-old wise look. “Crystal doesn’t like crowds. I think she’d find it more fun to just look at the book.”