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| Lego Friends är skapat för att locka unga flickor. |
Lego har kommit fram till att man inte säljer tillräckligt mycket till tjejer. Legos lösning är det så kallade
Lego Friends. Det är anpassat för att locka tjejer och har marknadsfört för 270 miljoner. Det man har skapat är inte bara nya leksaker utan också ytterligare ett sätt att särskilja pojkar och flickor från varandra i ung ålder.
Förmodligen är det ett utmärkt sätt att få in mer pengar till företaget. Om man har två barn, en pojke och flicka, kan de ju nu inte längre leka med samma lego utan måste köpa olika lego till båda sina barn. Precis som med barnkläder där den yngre inte kan ärva kläderna från sina äldre syskon trots att de ser lika dana ut i kroppen. Till och med spädbarnskläder är designade för att separera de bägge könen.
Är det bara jag som ser ironin att de kallar sin nya produkt för Lego Friends när det enda det gör är att slå split och skapa skillnader mellan lekkamrater bara för att de inte råkar ha samma fysiska kön?
Och jag förstår fullständigt varför företagen gör det.
För att de kan. De växer på att sälja produkter, det är du som konsument som gör den här separeringen möjlig. Att du köper leksaker och kläder avsedda för ett specifikt kön uppmuntrar företagen att fortsätta skapa produkter som är könsspecifika.
Avslutningsvis vill jag posta ett brev från Ann Garth. Hon är 14 år och skrev till Lego för att klaga. Jag har kopierat brevet från bloggen
Reel Girl som hon också vidarebefordrade brevet till. Jag har också lagt upp den reklambild från 1981 för Lego som Ann Garth nämner i sitt brev. En fin kontrast till Lego Friends.
Dear Lego,
My name is Ann Garth, I am 14 years old, and I love Legos. Some of my
fondest memories of preschool are of the giant “Lego pit,” which was
basically a container the size of a small table completely filled with
Legos. Whenever we had free time I would rush over to the table and
start constructing something, usually a spaceship or some sort of
vessel, because you had all those little ladders and hoods and flippy
things that I didn’t quite know what to do with but could make into
windows, doors, and windshields. I would carefully construct walls,
making sure to stagger the edges like real bricks so they wouldn’t fall
apart, and when I was done I would set my creation carefully aside,
making sure that no one else touched the masterpiece. Legos inspired me,
helped me become more creative, and gave me something fun to do on
countless long afternoons.
This is why I was so disappointed when I recently heard of Lego’s
horrible, totally misguided decision to make and market a line of (very
pink) Legos for girls, complete with a girl brushing her hair in the
mirror, a bottle of perfume, and more. This is problematic for only two
or three MILLION reasons, but let me pick the first, broadest, and most
obvious: the idea that if you want to market a line to girls, it cannot
involve any movement, adventure, or activity.
Quite honestly, I don’t have that much of a problem with you painting
your new Legos pink. Lots of girls like pink, and while that fact is an
inditement of our popular culture in itself, it’s not your fault. In
addition, adding pink might encourage some girls to try Legos. My
problem is with the theme of the collection, and the ideas it enshrines.
You are telling girls that they can do, or should do, nothing more than
sit and prink. You are telling girls that the boys get to have all the
fun, while they have to stay home and be bored. You are saying that all
girls care about is makeup and how they look, when in reality there is
so much more.
I promise you, girls are do more. Girls ARE more. As a kid, my
favorite things to do were read and write (incidentally, I’m not seeing
any library Lego sets coming out lately), but what I loved almost as
much were building forts and climbing trees. There is nothing as nice as
sitting in the crook of a big green tree with your book and listening
as the leaves flutter in the passing breeze on a quieter day, or scaling
the heights and climbing out far past what your parents would be okay
with on an an adventurous one. And, of course, there is always the fun
of piling up the pillows for a fort, figuring out a way to hold the
sheets up (I devised a complicated system involving three of my dad’s
spring clips, our yard stick, and the space between the headboard and
the wall, which worked fantastically), and then settling down with a
book, bowl of popcorn, or even a set of Legos to relax after my labors.
And I am not the only one. Ask your daughter(s), Mr. Knudstorp. Or,
if you’ve raised her (them) to play with only girly toys, as any one of
the girls subscribing to New Moon Girls magazine. Ask those affiliated
with Pigtail Pals or Reel Girl, be they parents or kids. Ask Lise
Elliot, whose research has shown almost no differential in the play
styles of boys and girls when they are young, but a substantial
difference as they get older- a result of your company and others
playing up stereotypes. Ask Peggy Orenstein, who wrote an incredible
book about the “girly-girl culture,” Cinderella Ate My Daughter. Ask
Jennifer Shewmaker, Amy Siskind, or any of the other incredible mothers,
fathers, scientists, and doctors who are helping shape the movement to
take back our girls.
I am sure that by now others have shown you your own company’s 1981
ad, the one with the adorable little girl in the overalls with the red
braids holding up something she has made all herself, no pre-fab mirrors
and perfume bottles needed, with the slogan “What it is is beautiful.” I
am sure that someone (likely millions of someones) have brought your
attention to the sick, horrible irony of what you gave that girl back
then- the same as the boys, the same as everyone- and what you are
giving her today- six new shades of lavender and pink; dolls who do
nothing but sit by the pool; bottles of perfume and beauty parlors. More
telling to me, though, is what you are not giving her today- tools,
weapons, trees to climb, or spaceships, boats, and houses to make. Back
when your first ad was made all of those things had to be made with
blocks; there were endless opportunities. Now, there is nothing to do
except climb in the pre-made tree house, shop in the store that is
already there, and drive around in the car built by machine.
Please, Mr. Knudstorp. Please bring back real Legos. If you want to
appeal to girls, create more sets. Expand your horizons. But instead of
expanding into stereotypical girl territory, try hooking a bunch of boys
as well by creating a library set, a computer room set, or a boat set.
What about one with a soccer field, or a pool? Or- and I know that this
may be shocking- what about simply giving kids the same old blocks in
the same old colors and letting us make beautiful?
I think you might be surprised at the results.
Sincerely,
Ann Garth
P.S. If you take your current sexist set off the market, or even just
market your new sets to boys and girls, I promise I will go buy some of
your regular Legos.
