This doll's name is Jessie, or Jessica. It has been over 40 years. I remember receiving her as a Christmas present in my parents house in Albany, OR. She was wrapped in plastic. I remember my father taking out his pocket knife to cut her loose from all that. I remember the pleasure of holding her when she was was nearly my size. She carries a few scars from years of use, but so do I.
My sister, Melinda, got a similar doll, about 3 feet tall. My Jess is wearing a dress made by my Mother. It has my Mother's neat small hand stitches, and her signature love of rick-rack and bias tape during this period.
I might mention that my maternal grandmother was Jessie Irene Rose. My grandmother was born in Northwest Oklahoma and died in Albany, OR. She went by Irene, but her actual given name was Jessie. My cousin, Kellie named her first daughter Jessie. I was the first person to see or hold young Jessie, Kellie's Jessie, as she was delivered in the hospital.
Step grand daughter likes Jessie, the doll. Carries her around the house. Holds her and shows her to people who visit. Tells people Jessie is her daughter and that Jessie is 4 years old. But, she doesn't belong to step granddaughter. She was a Christmas's present to me more than 40 years prior. If you are step grand daughter, how could you be expected to get your head around that one?
Remember to hang in there Miss Jess. You are creating something. Not sure what, but something. And sorry about the ramble. Just what's on my head today.