Thursday Nights in Cumbernauld

Every Thursday night in Cumbernauld became a cherished ritual. My mum, my mother-in-law, and my sister in-laws would all pile into the car as I picked them up for our dollmaking classes, taught by the fabulous Sandra Russell. While we worked on our dolls, my husband and brother in-laws gathered in Wishaw to look after the children — a family effort that made those evenings possible.

We learned to create dolls primarily from Dianna Effiner sculpts, working carefully with molds, firing them, and then painting them. We applied glass eyes and eyelashes, fitted wigs, sewed their soft bodies, stuffed them, and finally dressed them.

My mum was a talented dressmaker and would create the most beautiful costumes for our dolls. I found my strength in painting faces — especially the tricky eyebrows — and loved helping the others when they struggled. Each of us brought our own skills, and together we created something magical.

Those nights were more than classes; they were gatherings of family, creativity, and love. The dolls we made hold those memories still.

Discovering Annette Himstedt

Those Thursday night doll classes opened a whole new world to me. It was there that I first discovered doll magazines, filled with photographs and stories of doll artists from around the world. That’s where my obsession truly began — and ultimately led me to my very first Annette Himstedt doll: Nablina.

I was completely obsessed with getting her.

When my 21st birthday came around, my parents thought I might like a writing desk, something practical, grown-up, and lasting. But my heart was set on Nablina. When I told them, they were taken aback by the price — £300 — even though the desk cost the same. They compromised, offering me half the money, and I carefully pieced together the rest from birthday gifts until I had enough.

My mum came with me to the Waverley Centre in Edinburgh, to a toy and collectibles shop where I knew she was waiting. I can’t remember the shop’s name now — maybe some of you do? I’ll never forget that moment: spotting Nablina in the shop window from the escalator. My excitement was so great I practically pushed through people to get to her.

But then came the dilemma. Beside Nablina stood Lillian, equally stunning, equally tempting. My heart ached at the thought of leaving her behind. But I stuck to my original plan. With my heart racing, I took Nablina home — all the while keeping my eyes fixed on Lillian as I went back up the escalator. It felt strangely like abandoning her.

Needless to say, that wasn’t the end. Many years later, Lillian finally joined my collection (not the exact same doll, but one just as beautiful). Today, she proudly sits beside Nablina — and her other “sisters,” because once you begin, you never stop at just one.

About Annette Himstedt

Annette Himstedt was a celebrated German doll artist, known worldwide for her lifelike “barefoot children” dolls. Starting in the late 1970s, her creations became famous for their soulful glass eyes, natural wigs, and handcrafted details that made them look like real children frozen in time.

In 1986 she founded the Annette Himstedt Puppenmanufaktur (doll manufactory) in Paderborn, Germany, producing limited-edition dolls that became highly collectible. Her work was admired not only for artistry but also for the sense of emotion and personality in each doll’s expression.

When her company closed in 2009, her dolls became even more sought after by collectors worldwide. For many, a Himstedt doll is not just a collectible but a treasured piece of art — and for me, Nablina was the beginning of a lifelong passion.

Artlandya, Tenerife

My Visit in 2024

In 2024, I had the joy of visiting Artlandya in Tenerife, a museum and sanctuary for dolls. Walking among those lifelike creations reminded me of the hessian days of doll collecting — days that, sadly, are now gone.

Back then, we had intimate collector doll shops in places like Falkirk, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Perth, Raith, Hexham, and York. There were also large doll fairs in Falkirk and Harrogate that drew enthusiasts from far and wide. Like me, you probably yearn for those days when you could see new collections from established artists and, on some magical days, even meet them in person.

There was nothing quite like it: standing face to face with a new creation, picking your doll in person, getting a good look and feel, and letting it speak to you before you brought it home.

Nowadays, collecting is different. We scroll endlessly through eBay, Vinted, or Etsy, hoping that a postage-stamp-sized photo might reveal a treasure worth adding to our collections. It’s convenient, yes — but it doesn’t quite compare to the magic of those gatherings and shops where dolls came alive before your very eyes.

I’ve been visiting Tenerife for 20 years now, and I was genuinely surprised to find Artlandya. At first, I thought it would be filled with antique dolls — not really to my taste — but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Nestled in the village towns, it doesn’t get much traffic, but what a hidden gem it is.

The curator was most welcoming, and we chatted for ages, sharing knowledge and stories with one another. It turned into a day I will never forget. I’ll definitely be back, as they rotate their vast collection regularly.

One of the highlights of our conversation was discussing Annette Himstedt’s acrylic eyes, some of which have now discoloured, and how to fix them. It was fascinating to exchange insights with someone who truly understood the artistry and the challenges of preserving these dolls.

Artlandya is more than a museum — it’s a place where the spirit of doll collecting still feels alive, where conversations flow, and where each visit offers something new.

If You Visit

Artlandya sits tucked away in the quiet hills of Tenerife, far from the tourist bustle. Stepping inside feels like stumbling across a secret treasure. The rooms are filled with dolls displayed in a way that makes each one seem alive, and the vast collection is always changing, so no two visits are the same. The curator welcomes you as if you were an old friend, eager to share stories and knowledge. It is not just a museum, but a place where the magic of dolls is still very much alive.

Doll Stories

Explore the tales behind each cherished doll in my collection.

Meeting Philip Heath in Harrogate (1999)

In 1999 I traveled to Harrogate with my husband, our young son, and my mum and dad for what became an unforgettable day. We had the chance to meet the incredible doll artist Philip Heath in person.

Philip, who began as a ceramics teacher before turning to doll sculpting in the 1980s, was by then already famous for his lifelike dolls created with Götz. Collectors admired the way he could capture the soul of childhood in his work, giving each doll warmth and character.

That day, Philip welcomed us kindly, posed for photos, and made us feel part of his world. My mum and I each bought dolls, which he signed personally. The dolls were triplets — I chose two and she chose one.

Twenty years ago, I lost my mum. Today, her doll has come to me, and the triplets are back together. Having them side by side again is a precious reminder of that day in Harrogate, of my mum’s love for dolls, and of the bond we shared.

For me, it wasn’t only about the dolls. It was about being there together as a family, sharing in the artistry, and meeting a man whose creations touched our hearts — and still connect me to my mum all these years later.