Separating the Soft-Headed from their Money

Generally speaking, I'm a pretty open-minded person. I've got my own hobbies and interests, and other people are free to have theirs, even if I find them weird. Jim Morrison said it best: "People are strange." So when I see advertisements (such as those found in the coupon sections of the newspaper) for plates commemorating the death of a Nascar driver, or porcelain statues of a bald eagle clutching arrows and an American flag in attack mode with the inscription "Peace on Earth - 9/11/2001", I usually just shrug, maybe roll my eyes sadly, and resume looking for discounts on Hamburger Helper. But one I saw the other day just left my jaw on the floor. And the more of it I read, the more dismayed I became.

It's an advert for "May God Bless You, Little Grace", a collectible doll crafted to look like a prematurely-delivered infant. The first in a new series of lifelike "So Truly Real™ Early Arrivals" vinyl dolls. Collecting dolls? A perfectly sane hobby, I suppose. Baby dolls? Little yellow flags go up if the collector is over the age of 12, but it's probably a harmless manifestation of the parental instinct. But preemies?

Preemie babies are hardly a subject suitable for cloying sentimentality. There's a reason they stay in hospitals long after their full-term birthday-mates go home. They're patients. They suffer from high mortality rates, high incidence of physical and neurological deficits, and generaly suffer through the early part of their lives. "May God bless you" indeed; you need it. To have an "aww, how adorable" reflex to a preemie is to lack any understanding of what they go through. And to want a doll (or several; this is a series) that looks just like one, is... creepy.

The company selling these stresses the realism over and over. She's life size, of course. A "noted doll professional" - whose name gets zero hits from Google, so that probably means she's just some marketing flack - gushes, "This 'Early Arrivals' doll is absolutely incredible! What an accomplishment! I'm sure you'll be as amazed as I was at how lifelike she is." The advert copy describes her "soon-to-be-patented RealTouch™ vinyl skin", and promises, "Once you see her, touch her, hold her, and love her, you'll be convinced she is So Truly Real."

Maybe. But if she's that realistic, and just lies there (not even breathing), I'd call that a deathlike preemie.

The advert isn't only disturbing; it's deceptive. It starts by stating, "In 1959, an extraordinary first took place: a famous fashion doll premiered in stores for $3. Today, that same original doll can sell for thousands of dollars." They're talking about the first Barbie® of course. But the reason those dolls sell for so much today is because A) Barbie went on to become a cultural phenomenon, with literally hundreds of millions of fans who have played with them and dearly loved them as children, and B) the owners played with them, damaging or wearing out nearly all of them, so only a small number of the early Barbies are still in condition suitable for doll collectors.

"Now you have the chance to own another extraordinary first at a first-issue price," it continues. But "Little Grace" here is never going to have millions of fans, and the people who buy them are going to take very good care of them (assuming they don't have serious neurological deficits themselves). "A one-of-a-kind doll by Tinneke [the artist who designed the doll] can sell for thousands," they add. So fucking what? These aren't one-of-a-kind originals made by the master's hand; they're manufactured products. It's like the difference between owning the Mona Lisa, and owning a Mona Lisa print. These dolls aren't at all likely to go up in value, and even if by some fluke they become one of the handful of manufactured collectibles that do go up, it certainly won't be into the "thousands" range they keep teasing the buyer with. They're a horrible investment.

Especially considering how damn much they cost to begin with: "Premiering at 5 payments of $25.99*". Somehow this adds up to "$129.99*". The footnote explains that, along with the $12.98 shipping and service charges, the total cost will be $142.97. In my opinion, anyone who needs to spread the cost over 5 payments (it doesn't say, but I assume they're monthly), can't really afford to spend that kind of money on a fake dead preemie.

So what we have here is a product being marketed to psychologically disturbed, gullible people with limited disposable income. Disgusting.