Justin: Can Barbie survive the Trump tariffs?

President Donald Trump thinks kids can get by without 30 dolls this Christmas. He has a point. Heck, even three dolls would have been a luxury in the 1930s, when Marlys Burgess was growing up in Bertha, Minn.

“I was on a farm. I had no friends,” she said. “I just had my Shirley Temple doll. It moved with me. Now, kids have 15 dolls and they throw them in a toy box.”

Burgess, now 87, is making up for lost time. For more than 35 years, she’s owned and operated Mrs. B’s Dolls Plus, a store in Blaine so cluttered that the fire marshal recently forced her to haul away some of her inventory on a 30-foot trailer.

The business, marked with a dilapidated sign in the front lawn, is still tough to navigate. Plastic containers block access to shelves lined with toys dating back to the 19th century. Raggedy Anns lie buried under a pile of Cabbage Patch Kids. A recently acquired box of Barbies has yet to be unpacked. It could be a scene straight out of “Hoarders.”

“I don’t like that word,” said Burgess, who relies on two hearing aids and an oxygen tank, nearly tripping on her air tube several times as she ventured down the narrow aisles. “I’m a collector.”

Burgess would love to clear space by moving more merchandise. But times were tough long before Trump started threatening tariffs.

Doll sales, according to Circana, sank 21% between 2019 and 2024 while other categories soared. Building sets, which include Lego bricks and Magna-Tiles, shot up 97% during that same period.

Burgess, who also repairs doll clothes and accessories, said the importers she used to rely on went out of business several years ago — and it’s nearly impossible to find U.S. manufacturers to take their place. She’s hoping that an American company that still makes Barbie stands will fill her recent order, even though they’ll charge her much more than the Chinese counterparts that no longer exist.

“The prices were bad to begin with,” said Burgess, who considers herself a Trump supporter. “So if they double, what difference is it really going to make?”

Burgess has spent her entire career riding the economic roller coaster. She invested early and often in Beanie Babies, which were as hot as boy bands and Rollerblades in the ’90s.

“They saved this store,” she said. “I got a call from the IRS because my profits shot up so much.”

But Burgess’ instincts aren’t perfect.

Like a lot of dealers, she thought porcelain dolls were going to become red hot. They did not.

One of the store’s most striking items is a set of six porcelain First Ladies, originally priced at $900. She’s slashed Martha Washington and friends down to $400 — and hints that she’d let them go for $100.

“I got hooked on porcelain and now they’re worthless,” she said. ”I can’t give them away."

She also spent way too much on wigs. “I lost thousands,” she said. “I goofed on some of it.”

Most days that she’s open (10:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m. Monday-Saturday), she’ll get one to three customers.

On a recent Thursday morning, the only buyer was Susan Simmons, a Barbie collector who spent about $150 on vintage dolls to use as gifts at the National Barbie Doll Collectors Convention in Louisville next month.

Despite her expensive hobby, Simmons believes kids today can get by without owning a legion of cloth companions or hosting tea parties at an American Girl store.

“Back in the day, a lot of the dolls were handmade and were hand-me-downs. My mother-in-law gave me one from the Civil War era,” said Simmons, who lives in Brooklyn Park. “You didn’t have a lot of toys, unless you were really wealthy.”

Pop-culture buffs could have a field day in the store, once they get over the nearly naked babies that look like the offspring of M3GAN and Chucky. Snoop around, and you’ll bump into Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins and Little Red Riding Hood.

But Burgess recognizes that she’s not sitting on a gold mine. She’s fairly certain that her kids are not interested in taking over the business, just the land that it sits on.

Money doesn’t seem to be her main concern. If a customer ticks her off, she’ll double the asking price — or not sell to them at all.

“She’s not as tough as she should be,” said her friend Susan Beal, who stopped by with a couple of keepsakes from her international travels, only to get berated by Burgess for not bringing along some chocolate.

When Burgess is joking, which is often, her voice triples in volume.

Retiring isn’t on the agenda.

“I can’t stand being home with my husband! One day with him drives me nuts!” said Burgess, who recently celebrated her 69th wedding anniversary. “Nobody’s going to buy this business. There ain’t no other idiots around.”