This article was published in the December 25, 1956 issue of Look magazine, and shows the brand new (at that time) Poor Pitiful Pearl doll by Brookglad, in her original outfit and the extra dress that she came with. Her creator, William Steig, was very well known at that time as an illustrator and cartoonist, primarily for The New Yorker magazine. What especially interesting here is the illustration showing his original drawing of Pearl. The article states that there would be a Poor Pitiful Pearl book the following spring, but I can’t find any information to confirm that it was ever published. He began a second career illustrating children’s books in the late 1960s, and it’s this work for which he is best remembered today.


I’ve heard folks refer to others as Poor Pitiful Pearl for all of my 80 years. But I never knew about the doll until last week. I used the term and a person near me asked if I knew about the doll. As quickly as possible I looked online and found her. The font in the only article I found was difficult to see and I wonder if it is possible to get more information at: 41countrygirl@gmail.com.
I agree it does look like the Martha face. As far as more or less forehead, that is so hard to tell with different hair styles. I just look at the features and they do look the same to me.
I had Pitiful Pearl! I wasn’t at all interested in dolls but my parents bought this as a Christmas present for me in the late ‘50s (or a bit later) and I loved her.
I got my first Poor Pitiful Pearl for Christmas in 1957. She was my favorite doll! I don’t know why but my younger sister chewed the fingers off her right hand. I was devastated but never stopped loving her. Years later I told myself I would find another Pearl and replace the arm. Years went buy, I found another Pearl, but I didn’t have the heart to take the arm from either doll. Well, after finding 25 Poor Pitiful Pearls,made from different companies and all different sizes and different conditions,new to old. I have had the best time adding them to the family. When we had company and if someone recognizes Pearl, I would always surprise them with a Pearl and they would always cry because they had lost theirs from their childhood. We are full time full time RVers with grandchildren and now 2 great grandchildren that will know about Pearl. I have 2 Pearls that travel with us always!!! Thank you for letting e tell you about Poor Pitiful Pearl.
Wonderful story! Thanks for sharing!
I still have my Poor Pitiful Pearl doll . I believe I got her in 1956. I had seen her story in Look magazine & absolutely had to have her. She was very popular & therefore scarce, but somehow, my father found her & gave her to me for Christmas.
Poor Pitiful Pearl was the best gift I ever received for Christmas. My father must have loved me very much to go to all that trouble to find a doll dressed in rags with a funny face & messy hair..
I had a Poor Pitiful Pearl doll in 1956 who i loved dearly. My mother told me it’s the only doll i liked because i didn’t know what the ‘other’ dolls were smiling about. My brother gifted me with another Pearl for my 40th birthday . She’s my link to happy times 😁.
I always wanted a Poor Pitiful Pearl doll. I just knew that I could give her all of the love she needed. I never did get her though. Thank you for having several and loving each of them. ❤
Would you still like a poor pitiful pearl? I would be honored to send you one, I have 26!!! Dawn
I had a pitiful Pearl doll in late 50’s that I loved! We moved to Africa in 1961 and could only take limited toys. So, I had to give up PP. I was heart-broken! She was replaced w/ a new doll, Baby Dear but we never bonded. Still miss PP!
I would love to have one of your dolls! My name is Judy! My email is juju12180@yahoo.com. I would love to have one.
That is so dear of you! My mom found poor pitiful Pearl and showed me a picture, so I wanted her, but didn’t get her that Christmas. So I’ve thought about her ever since. I’m very touched by your great kindness offering this doll to the other lady. The world needs more people like you.
Dawn, Do you know about or have any soft body Pearls of great price and worth and, if, so, who and when were they made. Mine, and my all-time favorite too, was soft bodied. I’ve had no luck so far. Thanks for any information.
By cloth body I mean on torso/trunk
I’m 65 years odd and still have my Pitiful Pearl doll whose hair I cut and styled. She also has body markings which was way ahead of the time.
Intentional or not, my parents thought I had not done Pearl no favors.
Today, I see that as an early sign of trying to express my creative side. While I might not have had any real talent then who knows what a little encouragement might have unleashed (good or not so)!
Love my Pearl!
I’m86 years old. My mother didn’t want to buy me Pearl or any other doll. I only wanted Pearl. Many years later at a school Bazaar I found Pearl. I bought her for 50 cents and it quickly renewed my
Love and need for Pearls. I investigated and found many companies were commissioned to make Pearl by William Steig the book author and creator of Pearl. I bought many in line and thus have a lovely collection. One came in original rags with magic skin, another, I took to a doll hospital got her a new wig and clothes appropriate. I introduced her to a little 3 month old baby this weekend. Never to young to fall in love with Pearl.
Bless you! I’m looking for a cloth torso/trunk bodied Pearl.
I remember seeing this doll when I was a child (in the mid 1950s) and wanting her; however, my Mom said that I could not have the doll. Usually, if I wanted something enough, my Mom might eventually reconsider and allow me to to have the thing that I wanted — say, later, for my birthday — but in this case my Mom did not relent. I was not permitted to have this doll.
As an adult, I can guess more about how my Mom might have felt. I now also feel uneasy about seeing a doll representing a poor child being marketed to children from more affluent families. The idea of representing a child wearing ragged clothes as being “poor” and “pitiful” is condescending, in my opinion. Poor people may be less fortunate in some ways, but they don’t need to be pitied or rescued by wealthy children.
I wonder about the source of this condescension. Poor Pitiful Pearl was sold in the mid-1950s, a time of new prosperity in America. At that time, many newly affluent American parents (including William Steig) would have been the offspring of immigrants who themselves might have come to the United States wearing ragged clothes. The doll may have thus brought back memories of what the immigrants’ own lives were like. There’s a marked difference between the immigrants and Pearl, however. The immigrants may have been ragged and poor, but they were certainly not pitiful, and nobody rescued them. They were strong, they worked hard, and they were able to educate their children so that the next generation might escape the cycle of poverty. They were resilient, resourceful, hard working, remarkable human beings.
It may be that some Americans in the 1950s felt some guilt about their own affluence. I don’t think it far-fetched to consider that a doll such as this one could have represented an attempt to mollify some of the guilt. Children coming from families having enough often heard admonitions like, “Clean your plate. There are many poor children who are not so lucky as you are.” I remember seeing Poor Pitiful Pearl when I was about eight years old and thinking that this was the kind of child whom I had been told that I was lucky enough not to be. I think that part of the reason why I wanted the doll had to do with my extreme discomfort at being a middle class child when some other children were poor. I felt attracted by the idea that if I loved the doll enough, I could help fix the age-old problem of some people having less than others.
I also remember that at about this same time there seemed to be a fascination in children’s literature with orphans. I remember reading several books about children of about my age who had lost one, or both, of their parents. I remember being at once horrified at the idea of losing my parents and also fascinated by children in books who found themselves in this situation.
I think you’re overthinking Poor Pitiful Pearl. She’s a foster child-doll who needs love. That’s all. The concept was to teach children empathy, not pity for the less fortunate. You’re Mom should have bought you one. I didn’t have one either, but I didn’t ask for one. I had Barbie’s. I played with my Pearl doll every chance I could when I was over her house tho!
I remember getting my Pearl and wanting to love her enough to make her happy. I think it was one of my parents first steps to help me develop empathy. She is at least 60 years old and sitting in my arms right now. I get your point but I also think my parents were on to something.
Was there ever a Pearl doll dressed as an old lady with glasses or did I just dream that?
We still have our poor pitiful Pearl, given to us in the late 1950s. My mother, whose name was Pearl, claimed that this doll was named after her.
She grew up poor, and she personally adored this doll, which came with a “poor” outfit, as well as a dress up outfit!
We never knew if the namesake story was true, but we enjoyed playing with her.
Update: One of my adult daughters loves her, and the other one thinks she’s creepy;-) !!
I got Pearl when I was 4 years old, in 1957, and I still have her. She is, shall we say, showing all the times I carried her everywhere and loved her always. She was the only doll I ever had — and I never thought of her as “poor “ or “pitiful.” She was just Pearl, a plain little girl who needed to be loved.
A few years ago I found a new-still-in-the-box Pearl online, and I’m saving her for a great-granddaughter.
I also wanted a Poor Pitiful Pearl but never got one. We would go to see Christmas displays at the expensive department store in the 1950s and that’s where I first saw Pearl. Love at first site! My family must have somehow know my love of her because they called me Pearl time to time. I grew up in spite of not getting Pearl and maybe I wouldn’t have appreciated her. But I still think of her lovingly.
I too loved my Poor Pitiful Pearl doll in the late 1950’s when I was about 7. I had to beg and beg my Mom to get me one. She told me she was not pretty and therefore I did not need to have her. I never thought that at all – all I saw was a cute turned up nose and someone different from all my other dolls. I needed her to love! Finally I got my doll for Christmas. She was the best surprise present that year! I loved her for several years before my Dad packed her up without my knowing and took her to Mexico on one of his fishing trips. He always took our old toys to give to the children who were poor there. My Dad was so kind and loving but I always wished I still had Pearl. As an adult my Mom gifted me a Pearl doll she found at an antique store and I was thrilled. To this day I know she must have felt guilty to pack up my favorite doll without asking me just because she wasn’t the most prettiest.