One thing I used to miss about not having a girl child was having an excuse to play with dolls.

Not baby dolls. And not the creepy, porcelain-faced variety of doll beloved of certain collectors.

No, I mean the sort of dolls I had myself as a child. The ones that help you to tell stories about yourself. The dolls that are basically you, but live a version of life that is more exciting than your own.

I was reminded of the pleasures of playing with dolls when I came across these paper versions by illustrator Ana Ventura.

I love the way that despite living in two dimensions rather than three, they all have such distinct personalities.

I imagine that each and every one of them has a different life, full of intrigue and unusual occurrences.

You can see more of Ana’s dolly pantheon on her flickr photostream.

I wonder what stories they would tell if they could speak? ♥