As part of our wandering around downtown when my sisters were visiting, we went into the huge American Girls store to see just what was what.

And it turned out that 'what' was like three floors of dolls, accessories, play sets, more dolls, books, a photography studio, and a theater.

Middle sis was into American Girls when they first came out (back when there were only three of them: Kirsten, the pioneer girl; Samantha, the turn-of-the-century girl; and Molly, the steel penny-carrying WWII girl) and she still collects the books (now that each doll has like seven books, and now that they have expanded the set to include an African American, a Hispanic, and a redhead).

For those not in the know, each doll has adventures in a specific period of history. Samantha has lush, turn-of-the-century garden birthday parties, while Kirsten has to plod through miles of fields to get to school, like Frontier House. They each have a birthday book, a book about a surprise, a book about a dangerous adventure, etc.

It turns out that now you can order yourself a present-day American Girl with skin, hair, and eyes to match your own--just like Cabbage Patch Kids. They also offer dolls in both big and little sizes, plus sets and props so you can act out each book.

The crowning jewel of the store had to be the theater, however, where you could spend like $26 to catch the American Girl Revue. We were going to have one of us watch it and then tell the others what is was like, but even then the $26 price seemed steep.

We tried to piece the plot together from the blown-up stills on the walls outside the theater. It looked like they had different actresses playing each girl in each period of history. But present in each vignette was the same male actor, dressed in period clothing (Paul Revere hose pants, 1920s suit, etc.) in the same shade of brown, shaking each girl's hand, or dancing with her, or offering her a ride in his Model T. Since the girls are of all different races and complexions, it seemed unlikely that he was playing the father each time. So the effect was to promise that if you bought a ticket, you were in for the heart-warming story of a dapper time-travelling pedophile.

Of course, even more disturbing than that was the two twenty-something males who came into the store--unaccompanied by any females in the target audience of the store--as we were leaving.

And of course, the photography studio where, it seemed, you could be photographed as an American Girl yourself.