As I finally come down from a day that included the din of weekend mall buzz, it seems a suitable time to put down some thoughts on the current state of the brand. And since I spent that mall time with a three-year-old, I am viewing it mostly through the lens of the parent.
My daughter’s is certainly not the first generation to experience what I now call The Brandish Invasion. It's been thus to varying degrees, oh, since during my parents' childhoods, from the moment the ray of the first television broadcast sliced through the dullness of their winter living rooms.
But in this time, where you can receive the same "experience" transmitted through multiple media, it's escalated to ridiculous proportions. I’ll focus the discussion by looking at the ways a single, well-drawn kids' television character has grown into the merchandising monster that ate Manhattan: I give you Dora the Explorer.
Basic definitions
Obviously the title of this blog entry is a play on the expression British Invasion. When I added the suffix “ish” to “brand”, it occurred to me that it could be confusing, since “brandish” is an entirely separate word. But as it turns out, it fits: when I look up the word "brandish," on dictionary.com, the first definition that appears says it means 1. to shake or wave, as a weapon; and 2. a flourish or waving, as of a weapon.
I have no problem equating the Dora empire with a formidable weapon. And, by extension, I cannot sometimes help feeling like brands continue to invade my personal space, and jab away at my efforts to keep my daughter from feeling the urgent pull of product at an inappropriately young age. Like that brandished weapon, Dora’s creators have done all they can to thrust and wave her in our faces.
After all, it's now possible to meet Dora in our travels through the media of VHS, DVD (both movies and games), CD, TV, and Web - I'm sure I've missed some more edgy examples, having never set thumb on a game controller. When I'm shopping with my daughter for her everyday needs - like food, art supplies, and almost anything in the paper products category – within minutes I’ll be stared down by Dora’s permanently widened, Anime-reminiscent eyes. Or, more often, Kyra does, since all placement of Dora products usually happens at her eye level.
Dora’s ever-expansive buddha-like mug can sneak up on us anywhere: on fruit snack boxes, cereal, most kids' clothing items and accessories, diapers, bubble bath, sheets, headboards, cereal, books, kids' drink containers, toboggans, cutlery, lollipops, cheesy tabletop clocks...and sadly, I admit that my daughter owns many of these; others she fought admirably to get, too, but my will was stronger on those days.
Even outside the kids’ product aisles, I have to stay ever-vigilant for cross-promotion efforts (Dora drain opener, anyone?). And now they’ve spun off the character of her cousin, Diego, securing the other half of the kid population with a male character little boys will presumably want to emulate.
Originally, we'd embraced Dora – along with Sesame Street – thinking it's good for her to experience media at reasonable doses, provided she’ll actually gain some valuable learning from it. If you strip away all the “stuff” attached to her, Dora and her friends teach some pretty cool lessons about teamwork, solving problems and accepting other languages and cultures. Kyra has even learned some basic Spanish thanks to the show, which I now have picked up and run with, since I speak it, too.
Watching shows about her cousin, Diego, we’ve learned about unusual rainforest creatures and adopt an environmental mindset as we join animal rescuer Diego in his adventures. Of course, this narrative has its shadow side, too. For example, I wonder if child labour advocates have ever asked why neither Dora nor Diego is seen spending much time in school. But I digress…we’ll do Foucault on another day.
Avoiding commercials doesn't fully protect you
I should note that we don’t actually watch any of these kids’ stories on television proper, but rather on DVDs and VHS tapes. It’s our conscious decision that – eschewing the APA warnings about TV for kids – we’ll at least control exactly what she watches and designate TV viewing time as a specific chance to enjoy and learn together, rather than random or “background noise” phenomemon. And, we favour DVDs over, say Treehouse, in order to control the amount of needless information thrust in front of our child. But the marketers are one step ahead of us there, too.
Before you can view the menu on a DVD, you must be ready with your clicker to skip through between 2 and 8 promotional spots. Some are for other stories about the same character we’re watching, and others are for other well-known kids’ shows under the Nick Jr. banner. You cannot skip through these – at least, not with my player – without seeing at least the first couple seconds of each promo. Fortunately, my daughter has gotten used to this and sees this as “the way mommy or daddy starts the Dora movie.”
In almost all cases, the makers have added a feature that prevents viewers from skipping certain parts, such as the copyright warning. In others, it’s even more nefarious. Take Sesame Street, the long admired, seemingly untouchable paragon of educational virtue. Did you know that many of their DVDs contain an introductory vignette about all the good work they’re doing around the world? Fine. It makes sense for them to brag – they’ve earned it.
BUT, did you know that they DON’T LET YOU SKIP THROUGH their bragfest?!? To me, that’s just low: and the message I get is that methinks the producers doth protest too much about how wonderful they are, given their need to shove that message in our faces each time we want to enjoy counting with The Count.
As a communications consultant, I have been responsible professionally for promoting and supporting brands over the years. But I was never given such pause about the subject of brands – and their twin supporters, merchandising and marketing – until I attempted to prevent someone from encountering one, as I now do with my daughter. All I can do is limit her to only a few television characters, and hope that this will in turn limit the amount of useless and/or overpriced stuff that ends up in my house, on those days when I give up on arguing with a toddler. Unfortunately, I cannot control what the kids at school have on their T-shirts and lunchboxes. And on those rainy afternoons where they let the kids chill with a DVD, she’s learned to recognize many other kids’ characters we keep out of our home.
How I deal on my own time
As an adult, one assumes that I have more critical judgment about how marketing and branding affect my interests. And as such, I am alert to the invasion of advertising into my personal space. Each time a commercial comes on TV or radio, I immediately mute, fast-forward or change stations. Bottom line: I am tired of being yelled at in my own house – have you noticed how the ads are usually a couple volume levels higher than the show you’re watching?.
Car dealer and furniture stores are the worst for screaming through their copy – and then there are those monster truck rallies! – as though if you don’t get there right away to see that truck crush another, buy their particleboard table, or scoop that “midnight madness” bargain on a jeep, your life is as good as overwith.
With brands and products weaving their way through almost all encounters we have in a day, I no longer have the patience for it once within the cocoon of my home. And I will remain ever so when it comes to what is put in front of my child, especially within our own four walls. ‘Cause once we step outside them, we’re all much fairer game.
-end
