By Jennifer Frey
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, August 2, 2007

Breakfast with the Bratz at the Georgetown Ritz-Carlton:

Tresses are rich and free-flowing, jewelry is brightly colored and dangling. Belts are apparently in, heels are high, clothes are fashionable without exposing too much skin.

Special K and skim milk are favored food items ("with a side of scrambled eggs" in two instances). They eat off each other's plates.

The conversation is constant and intimate, with the four dolls-come-to-life talking over each other and telling stories out of school and giggling as if they've been friends for years -- rather than just the months since they first gathered to film "Bratz." The live-action version of the popular Mattel-marketed toys opens tomorrow.

"There are biffles and BFFs," explains Nathalia Ramos, who, at 15, plays Yasmin. "A biffle [as in BFFL, or best friend for life] is a fun friend that you phone. A BFF is a best friend forever that you love."

"What are we?" chimes in Skyler Shaye (Cloe).

"You are BFFs!" Nathalia says.

And they laugh, and Skyler explains that on the very first day they met -- when they were asked to start helping to develop their characters' personalities -- the Bratz got along so famously that they went to the bathroom and took pictures of each other in front of the mirror, then went home and texted back and forth half the night.

Is it genuine? Or have they become their own characters? Or does it even really matter? Isn't being a teenage girl so much about artifice, in its own way?

* * *

Here's the quick Bratz cheat sheet:

Skyler plays Cloe, the blond, soccer-loving daughter of a struggling single mom.

Janel Parrish is Jade, the Asian American Brat, a science and math whiz with high-pressure parents and a side interest in clothing design.

Logan Browning is Sasha, an African American cheerleader with divorced upper-income parents who constantly spat.

And Nathalia is Yasmin, a Latina who is too shy to pursue her dream of becoming a singer.

What appealed to producer Avi Arad -- who has taken a successful career in toys and comic-book heroes and translated it into film success -- is the diversity of the four original Bratz (there are now several others) and the potential that had for story lines.

"Having been through the private schools and the cliques and the damaging experience of being in high school in the first place," Arad says, referring to his experiences watching two daughters grow up, "I felt it is such fertile ground to have girls from diverse ethnic groups, different social backgrounds, different economic backgrounds."

The result is a film about four best friends who start high school and drift apart due to their individual interests. When confronted with the wrath of the school's reigning "mean girl" -- the student body president -- they reunite to break down the classic high school cliques. It's the kind of uplifting message Arad and the other filmmakers were looking to project.

But in order to get there, they first had to solve the problem of clothes.

* * *

Little girls love them. Witness the 5-year-old who races through the entrance hall of the movie theater at a screening and jumps into the arms of Logan, clearly ecstatic to meet "Sasha." Some parents, on the other hand, have been wary of the concept.

Ever since the 10-inch dolls were introduced in 2001, there have been mothers and fathers who ban their presence, mainly in reaction to the attire, which tends toward bare midriffs and halter tops, platform shoes and cleavage-cut gowns. It's supposed to be urban chic, but given the age group the dolls appeal to --mainly the under-8 set -- it horrifies some adults. Add to that the dolls' oversize heads with the huge almond-shaped eyes and big, shiny, pouty lips and there is an air of, well . . . let's let Nathalia say it:

"I didn't know anything about the dolls at all," she says over breakfast. "Then people, like my friends, heard I was going to be in the movie and they said, 'Oh, so you're going to be a slut doll?' "

Across the table, director Sean McNamara cringes.

"Believe me, I'm aware of how the parents think about how the kids dress," McNamara says. "We had to change that. The clothes -- that was definitely a touchy one. We worked really hard to have a look where a parent would say, 'I'd be okay if my daughter walked out of the house in that.' "

"In the movie, the way we dress is very cute," Logan says.

"It's typical teenager wear," adds Skyler.

Nathalia sums it up: "Nothing scandalous. One of the things about the movie is to change the reputation of the dolls."

* * *

Ask the actresses what their characters represent and they respond in rapid-fire fashion:

Skyler: "Self-empowering, being true to yourself."

Nathalia: "The value of friendship."

Janel and Logan, almost in unison: "Yes, friendship!"

And how would they describe each other in real life? Nathalia, despite being the youngest at 15, is the mother hen, the advice giver. Janel, 18, is the goofball. Skyler, 20, is the "fresh fruit," because she's so healthy. Logan, 18, loves to eat. They could go on and on -- and do, full of details about the others' little quirks.

They have even assigned one another Disney princess names:

Skyler is Cinderella, Nathalia is Sleeping Beauty, Janel is Mulan.

"Disney doesn't have any African American princesses," Logan says, "so I get to be Superman."

* * *

Disney has long milked the wild appeal of fictional heroines come to life -- ask any 4-year-old girl what is most exciting about visiting Disney World and it will be: meeting Cinderella or Snow White or Ariel. More recently, the American Girl doll empire has joined in, with live-action shows at its stores and a series of made-for-cable films.

None of the actresses had much of a résumé. Janel started out in musical theater. Logan's background is in dance. Nathalia did two episodes of "Arrested Development." Skyler -- whose godfather, Jon Voight, plays the high school principal in the movie -- had a smattering of small roles and television guest spots. Skyler and Janel live in Los Angeles; Logan is based in Atlanta; Nathalia is in Miami Beach.

"This is a great way to start out," says Logan. "It's really good to start out young and fresh and innocent."

Which is exactly the image Arad and McNamara were shooting for. In the film -- and, as it turns out, in person -- the Bratz appear as the kind of pretty, enthusiastic, doting "big girls" that little girls have always fallen for: the summer counselor whose phone number comes home in the 8-year-old camper's backpack. The teenager who affectionately braids hair and does "makeup" for her younger neighbors. Miss Emily at gymnastics class, with her perfect ponytail and easily given hugs. Any little girl's idealized version of what she'll be like -- and what kind of friends she will have -- once she gets "big."

* * *

After breakfast, the four Bratz pile into an SUV to head to Children's National Medical Center and spend some time signing autographs for the kids there.

In the lobby they are swarmed. They stoop down to eye level to sign postcards featuring their likenesses. There is a visit to a psychiatric inpatient ward and to oncology and hematology. At every spot, they say "Hi" in almost sing-songy unison. Enthusiasm never wavers. In one corridor, they meet 7-year-old Micah. Logan notes that Micah's earrings match her shoes; Janel makes a point of checking out her belt.

"Do you want to be an honorary Brat?" Janel asks her. Micah confides in a shy voice that she has two Sasha dolls and one Yasmin.

"You're now officially an honorary Brat!" Nathalia announces.

All four Bratz beam. And when they emerge from the hospital a few minutes later, they link arms, elbow to elbow, four across, their shiny hair swinging behind them, as they head back to the SUV.