The Queen of Salsa, Celia Cruz, Gets Her Own Barbie — Just in Time for Hispanic Heritage Month

But the honor bestowed on the legendary singer transcends her contribution to Latin music and recognition for acclaimed Hispanics, solidifying our culture and influence in America.

Mural of Celia Cruz; Photo: M.Vizcaino

Celia Cruz’ Barbie doll symbolizes much more than the legendary performer putting the music genre on the map. Although she passed in 2003, 20 years later, she’s still seen as a beacon of hope and a staunch advocate for freedom, especially in historically challenging times.

Mattel’s Inspiring Women series inclusion of the Celia Cruz doll reflects the Cuban icon’s legacy and stronghold on Latin music. They’ve struck commerce gold with the Barbie doll. No longer available on the toy retailer’s website and perpetual backorder, the Celia Cruz Barbie is in high demand and sold out from other popular retailers. Walmart has it. But it’ll cost you. Almost double, in fact (original Mattel price: $35). My partner recently purchased it as I’ve admired the singer all my life and we share the same heritage.

So, what does the Celia Cruz Barbie look like?

Celia Cruz Barbie; Photo: Courtesy of Mattel

Known for her dazzling, colorful outfits and elegant wigs on stage, Mattel recreates the singer’s signature look with an eye-popping red and gold dress, matching gold block-heeled sandals, and pristine blonde wig, complete with a gold microphone in hand and images of the performer in the sixties and seventies throughout the box seal the packaging’s aesthetic.

Celia Cruz, born 1925 in Barrios Suarez, Havana, Cuba, was one of four children. Lover of music and dance from an early age, she acquired her first pair of shoes by performing for a tourist in Cuba. From then on, Celia’s passion for singing led her to perform in school productions, notably Havana’s National Conservatory of Music. Her talent caught the attention of musicians and producers after winning a radio contest called the “Tea Hour.” She joined the Las Mulatas Del Fuego group and became the first female lead singer of La Sonora Matancera, Cuba’s most famous orchestra.

On the heels of her success with the orchestra and while touring in Mexico, Cruz decided not to return to Cuba as the Cuban Revolution was in full swing in 1960. Enraged at Celia’s defection and realizing he had lost one of the country’s national treasures, the vindictive dictator banned the singer from returning to the island. And she never did. She made America her permanent home and joined the Tito Puente orchestra in the mid-1960s. Cruz’s dazzling costumes, high-energy performances, and magnetic personality catapulted the group’s popularity. The label (Fania) dedicated to salsa, a sound mixing Cuban and Afro-Latin beats, emerged in the late 1960s and 1970s when she recorded one of her trademark hits, “Quimbera.” Unfazed by being the only female performer in a large band (unheard of at the time in the male-dominated industry), Celia’s fame continued to ascend — touring internationally and performing with the biggest names in music.

Fania All Stars in 1980; Photo: Celia Cruz Biography

The multi-Grammy-award-winning celebrated songstress’s career spans six decades with 80 albums, earning 23 Gold Records. She pioneered the music genre of salsa globally, paved the way for other artists, and amplified her Afro-Latinidad heritage through song, dance, and dress. Mattel creating a doll in her honor is an incredible source of pride for me and countless Latinos, further establishing her star power and legacy. Check out Mattel’s website to buy the Celia Cruz Barbie and other dolls from their Inspiring Women Series.

A Tale of Two Sisters: Worlds Apart in Upbringing, Three Hours Between Us in Distance

I hadn’t seen my sister in over three years. The pandemic made it difficult. I recently decided to change that and travel to our motherland: Cuba, to see her.

Old Havana, November 2022

I grew up without my sister. Politics and second marriages changed our childhood upbringing forever. I left for the United States when I was four, her 13 when she adjusted to her new life without our father. I learned on this trip that he didn’t tell her he was leaving with his new wife and four-year-old daughter to the States. A fact she shared with me on this trip. “Cowardice,” she said. “That’s the only way I can describe our father’s actions.” I couldn’t challenge her. I had to agree. I thought, what if I were in her shoes? I would feel the same.

It was unfair to her. To only have a father until the age of 13, whereas I had him until I was 30. And although I had him longer than my sister, that didn’t mean we lived happily ever after. He was conflicted. Leaving a child behind couldn’t have been easy. He never expressed this loss to my mother or me, but I always felt something was missing, a longing he could never fulfill.

When I arrived in Cuba, it was unbearably hot. We are well into fall in the U.S., and my body temperature has adapted accordingly. “Oh, it’s breezy now,” my sister said before I arrived. After eight days there, I was still waiting for this breeze. Thirty-one degrees Celsius/88 Fahrenheit doesn’t exactly call for a momentary gust of wind. But that was the least of my discomfort. There was a toilet paper shortage, a lack of bottled water in stores, limited napkins, and four currencies to keep track of. Before I arrived in Cuba, I knew things were in short supply, like the U.S. or the rest of the world, but not to this extent. I was outraged. Where was all the money going into Cuba (over 65% by foreign countries) going towards? “It’s the embargo,” my sister would say. “Do you really think Cuba will thrive if the embargo is lifted? I asked. What about all the government corruption on the island?” My sister stood behind her statement. She also discussed why Putin wasn’t the enemy; Ukraine was. I was speechless. Who is this person? I knew she didn’t share all my Western views, and we both disdained Trump. But saying Ukraine is the villain didn’t sit well with me.

View From El Malecon, Vedado, Cuba November 2022

We stopped talking about politics. It was a mutual decision. We both wanted to enjoy each other’s company, free of tension and disagreements. After all, I had to travel to a communist country to see a sibling I missed and loved. Before he passed, our father made it a point for us to communicate by letters in the 90s to get to know one another, once he couldn’t write her because his diabetes had taken sight from his right eye. We’ve been close ever since. To feel her warmth in person is worth forgoing essentials I sometimes take for granted in the U.S. Until next time, Cuba! May things get better for you.