My 5-year-old daughter is on a kick where she announces that she is changing her name to something exotic. Kind of like moms picking their pretend stripper name, but G-rated.
Overheard in my car just yesterday as we were on our way to pick up baby sister from daycare and head to weekly soccer practice:
“Mommy, my name is not Caitlin any more. It’s Island Princess Anastasia Ariel.”
“OK...you’re name is Barbie Island Princess Anastasia Ariel. Right?”
“No, no, not Barbie. It’s Island Princess Anastasia Ariel!” (Rolls eyes in the exaggerated whatever mom/as if/you’re so clueless gesture.)
The new Barbie lineup has been launched just in time for Christmas wish lists. My daughter has already announced that she wants to dress up as Barbie Island Princess for Halloween and is longing for every Barbie Island Princess toy she sees advertised on television. And lo and behold what did my wandering eyes see at family night at our school book fair but a Barbie Island Princess book on a table strategically positioned near the entrance of the library. This was no ordinary book, mind you, as it came with an enticing cheap detachable plastic purple hair comb. Every 5 and 6-year-old girl within a 30-mile radius of our elementary school was running willy nilly with the Barbie book in one hand, the comb in the other, and a crazed “I must have it” look in their eyes. It was like Filene’s Basement for kids. My two-year-old, also a discriminating consumer, made a beeline toward the Dora and Diego books, which were, not surprisingly, placed on the lowest shelves.
My dreams of adding some literary masterpieces to the girls growing library, perhaps a Caldecott Medal winner or a childhood favorite, were dashed. I’ll be buying those classic gems when I don’t have two children in tow.
You slick marketing people have the little girls market pegged don’t you? Let me just hand you my wallet now, OK?
