Category — Toys

A decidedly adigital game of battling tops has “erupted into American living rooms,” reports Jesse McKinley in the New York Times (3/22/12). You may remember Beyblade from the early 2000s. It originated in Japan and, back then, the game was mostly made of plastic. It went out of style, but was re-introduced in Japan in 2008, this time featuring “a variety of changeable parts — energy rings and spin tracks and fusion wheels — and more metal, which added heft and created a satisfying clanging noise when they collide.” The new and improved Beyblade entered the US market in 2010, “coinciding with a new anime series on the Cartoon Network” and has since taken off like, well, a top from a string.

According to Hasbro, its American distributor, Beyblade has sold “more than 120 million tops worldwide.” NPD group puns that Beyblade was “the top-selling ‘battling’ toy in the nation last year.” The essential appeal is in the nature of the game itself. Following a ritual battle cry of “3,2,1, let it rip!” players send the tops flying off of rip-cords and into battle in “Bey Stadium.” The objective is to outlast other player’s top, and since “skirmishes usually last less than a minute, there is always time for another. And another. And another.” As six-year-old Eamon Moogan explains: “I like it because it’s really fast … And because even if you lose, you can always do it again.” Or as six-year-old John Luk Payne says, “It’s real life … it’s not just looking at something.”

Some kids are seeking out and swapping “rare imported” tops and creating their own “hybrid super-tops” from parts. International Beyblade competitions have also sprung up, including the “first-ever Beyblade World Championship” in Toronto. “Beyblade is a heck of a way to unite kids from all over,” says Zakiah Garcia, a sixth-grader who represented the US at the competition. The Beyblade phenomenon has understandably left some parents a bit frazzled, but Susanna Yurick, who was initially apprehensive about the game, says she likes that Beyblade teaches her son something about physics. So far, it is mostly boys on the Beyblade bandwagon, but first-grader Maleah Frances is ready to join the bey-fray: “The boys are a little bit better,” she says, “But I’m practicing.”

Having gone out of style in the 1980s, Table Hockey is attracting a new generation of fans, reports Will Connors in the Wall Street Journal (4/23/12). Table Hockey is where players use metal rods to move flat cutouts of players along slots in the table, manipulating them as levers in hopes of landing pucks in the opponent’s net. It was really popular in the 1970s but lost its mojo with the arrival of “videogames and the internet.” The game had survived, to some degree, among middle-aged men, who are now actively recruiting younger players to their ranks. Their pitch is “the sport’s human touch over videogames and smartphone apps.”

Mark Sokolski, 35, says young players are attracted to Table Hockey’s “real-life camaraderie” compared with the digital alternatives. “In videogames, there is no humanity,” he says. However, he showed no mercy when taking on 14-year-old Carter Campbell at the Canadian Table Hockey Championships earlier this year. “I’m gonna stomp this kid,” Mark said. And he did, 5-3 and 5-1. But, in fact, Mark, a middle-school teacher, had introduced Carter to the game in the classroom. Carter was a natural and soon “was beating all the kids his age, and most adults in town, too, at school and in local tournaments.”

Carter sees Table Hockey as a great equalizer. “I’m clearly not that athletic,” he says. “This is a a sport that I can play and I’m actually good at.” The Canadian event, held annually since 1999, drew a record number of participants — 120. Another tourney, the North American Championships meanwhile “drew players from as far away as Denmark and Norway,” and also broke the record for participation, with 48 players. Girls and women are still a rarity at Table Hockey tournaments, but Sue Elias, who says she’s “over 40″ is unintimidated. “One guy started to bleed during our game, he was trying to beat me so badly,” says Sue, observing . “But,” she adds, “I won.”

Maxine Clark got the idea for Build-A-Bear from a frustrated little girl, reports Dinah Eng in Fortune (3/19/12). Maxine was shopping for Beanie Babies with Katie Burkhardt, the daughter of a good friend. There wasn’t anything new to buy, and Katie suggested making her own bear. “Her words gave me the idea to create a company that would allow people to create their own customized stuffed animals,” says Maxine, who at the time had left her job as president of Payless ShoeSource because “the retail world had lost its spark.”

Her vision was to create “a theme park factory in a mall,” and the adults didn’t get it. “Every parent said, Why would you want to make your own stuffed animal when you can buy it at Target?” But their kids loved the idea. Maxine didn’t conduct any focus groups, but did create a Cub Advisory Board, in which kids could offer opinions. She took $750,000 out of her retirement fund to open her first store, and secured a bank line of credit, with her home as collateral. A story in the St. Louis Business Journal attracted an investment firm. When Maxine’s first Build-A-Bear store opened in the St. Louis Galleria, “there was a line out the door.”

Originally it was “just bears and clothes,” and then came “shoes, accessories, then more animals.” Licensed products from Disney and Major League Baseball teams followed. “We hit a good nerve,” says Maxine. “At a time when everything was going high tech, high touch and hands-on was a good balance.” That was back in the late ’90s, but today Build-a-Bear “operates 425 stores” in 19 countries (almost 40% outside the US) and in 2011 had revenues of $394.4 million. “We focus on good price, convenience, and location, and we hope that when you leave, you have a smile on your face,” says Maxine. “Successful retailers — whether it’s Macy’s or Apple — do these things.”

A small, rubber teething toy from France has become an unlikely luxury item among young moms around the world, reports Christina Passariello in the Wall Street Journal (3/7/12). Sophie la Giraffe “has been part of French life since 1961″ and for a long time its makers, Vulli, thought its appeal was purely local. But six years ago, its CEO, Serge Jacquemier, became “convinced Sophie could travel.” He “hired a psychotherapist, who concluded the rubber chew toy tapped into all five senses: sight with its strongly contrasting colors; hearing with its easy squeak; taste because it is easy to chomp on; and the touch and smell of the natural rubber. The toy’s petite size made it easy for babies to grip.”

As Serge observes: “What difference could there be between a Chinese, American or Russian baby?” Sophie was re-packaged in biodegradable boxes emblazoned with the Eiffel Tower, and sales have since “more than quadrupled” to $29 million. In the United States, the retail price of $25 is more than double the typical French tag of $12. In France, Sophie is sold in local supermarkets, in a blister package, and does quite well without the upscale trappings: “In 2010, Vulli sold 816,000 giraffes in France, and 828,000 babies were born, meaning that nearly every French newborn got one.”

Unlike most other toys for children, Sophie is made of rubber, not plastic, which also gives Vulli an advantage. “What saved us is that producing in rubber is more difficult than plastic,” says Serge. After being poured into molds and baked, the Sophies are allowed to dry for two months, before being polished, fitted with a whistle, sprayed “with food-grade paints” and marked with tracking numbers. Some naturally occurring toxins were detected recently by advanced technology, but Serge insists Sophie is safe. The company, which originally made “rubber balloons” to spy on German lines during World War I, has also line-extended into Sophie blankets and rattles.

When it comes to play, boys covet mastery while for girls it’s all about beauty, reports Brad Wieners in Bloomberg Businessweek (12/19/11). That’s what Lego’s anthropologists — or anthros — discovered after digging into what motivates kids at play. Their first clue came from an 11-year-old German boy who said his most prized possession was his sneakers — not because of the brand but because the way they were worn down on the sides and bottom confirmed his mastery of certain skateboard techniques. The attitude is similar with videogames, where it’s all about "scoring, ranking and levels of play."

However, among girls, playtime is more about aesthetics, and this was a problem for Lego, whose deliberately boy-centric marketing strategy wasn’t exactly pretty — least of all "its boxy minifigure, its 4-centimeter plastic man with swiveling legs, a yellow jug-head and a painted-on face." (image) It’s an icon among boys, but not girls. "Let’s be honest: Girls hate him," says Mads Nipper, Lego’s chief marketing officer. So, in its bid to make Lego attractive to girls, the brand is introducing Lego Friends, a series of 29 "mini-doll figures" based on "five main figures" who come complete with "names and backstories," sort of like American Girl dolls.

"The girls needed a figure they could identify with, that looks like them," says Rosario Costa, a Lego design director. But the real insight is that Lego can be just as appealing to girls as boys. Studies also find that Legos help both genders "develop spatial, mathematical and fine motor skills." Lego Friends will be introduced in the US in early 2012, and Target’s plan is to shelve it with other girls products, not other Lego sets (which of course are in the boys’ section). "I don’t have any illusions that the girls business will be bigger than the boys," says Lego CEO Jorgen Vig Knudstorp, "but at least for those who are looking for it, we have something to offer."

As much as Lego would like to appeal to kids, it’s the grownups that seem to be its most ardent fans, reports Daniel Michaels in the Wall Street Journal (11/17/11). "We still see ourselves as a toy company, but the world is challenging us on that," says Tormod Askildsen, a senior director at Lego in Billund, Denmark. Early signs of this challenge happened in 1995, "when an adult fan modified sophisticated design software to create a virtual-Lego program, L Draw. In 1998, Lego introduced Mindstorms, a line of robot-building kits with motors, sensors and small programmable computers. It was aimed at kids under 13, but more than half its buyers were over 20," according to Tormod.

Soon after, Lego "learned that adults were hacking Mindstorms software to soup up robots." Five years after that, the company went bankrupt because it dumbed down kits by using big, preformed pieces that sapped creativity." It was adults who told them they had blundered. "Fans tried to tell us we were on the wrong track, but we said, these are adults and we’re a toy company," says Tormod. "Until then, Lego was a pretty closed, arrogant company." But now Lego is embracing its inner adult, to the point where it has anointed 13 grownups as Lego Certified Professionals.

This elite corps of Lego customers isn’t paid by Lego, but "acts as goodwill ambassadors" in exchange for getting bricks at wholesale. Sean Kenney, one of the chosen 13, actually “left a job at Lehman Brothers in 2002 to build Lego models full time.” He makes six figures from “clients including Marriott International, which this year commissioned models of several hotels.” Meanwhile, other adult fans are forking over upwards of $1,000 for a “5,992-piece Lego Taj Mahal" set. It’s not lost on Lego that grownups have more money to spend than kids, although this particular adult extravagance can cause family tensions. "We hear conversations about, ‘This is Daddy’s Lego," says Jamie Berard, a Lego senior designer.

Bill Probert, "a Lego enthusiast for the past 20 years" has created a 400 square-foot Lego metropolis, reports Susan Hodara in the New York Times (11/27/11). Bill is 54, so he realized his passion for Lego somewhat late in life. But his Lego city, built "with help from members of two Lego fan groups" — all members of "the international Adult Fans of Lego community (members call themselves AFOLS)" — is currently on display at the Stamford Museum and Nature Center in Connecticut.

It’s quite something: "Three railroad trains and two monorails activated by motion detectors travel across farmland planted with about 3,000 ears of corn, each consisting of 10 Lego pieces; to and from an airport where several planes are in flight; past a soccer field and campsite (you can see campers’ dinner roasting on a spit); and around a downtown bustling with shops, cafes , a five-story department store and hundreds of busy figures."

Bill also "included lots of unexpected details: a skeleton lying across a train track, an octopus hiding under a bridge, Star Wars characters dueling and other surprises." Bill calls his creation "All Aboard" and says that about 80 percent of the Lego pieces he used can’t be bought in stores anymore. "Some I bought years ago," he says, "and others I purchased on the secondary market." Bill says he plans to re-arrange neighborhoods and change other details to keep his cityscape fresh throughout its run, which will conclude on January 2nd.

Pinball, says David Silverman, is "not just a game to play, it’s a historical evolution about what our country is all about," reports Natalie DiBlasio in USA Today (8/22/11). David is executive director of the National Pinball Museum, which has seen some 5,000 visitors since it opened in Georgetown last December. Pinball, says David, is "an American icon, and it’s the art of the United States." David, who is 63, says he’s been playing pinball since he was four, and collecting pinball machines for 35 years. He is not alone in his enthusiasm, and according to John Sharpe, pinball’s popularity is growing.

John is a founder of the International Flipper Pinball Association, formed "to establish a worldwide player-ranking system, endorse tournaments and elevate awareness. The association lists 38 leagues, mostly in the United States, but also in Canada, Germany, Spain and Japan." It currently ranks some 10,000 competitors and in May hosted the World Pinball Championship in Sweden to celebrate the 140th anniversary of the pinball machine. "The growth we have seen is insane," says John, whose sons, Joshua and Zach, serve as the association’s president, and vice-president, respectively. "Pinball was a staple of growing up," says Zach. "There is nothing else like it." Videogames be damned.

Bernie Kelm, president of the Free State Pinball Association, which also sponsors tournaments, says that the home market is driving pinball growth. "The really passionate pinball players become collectors," he says. Zach Sharpe says he owns four pinball machines, and his brother, Joshua has 17. Players "range in age from 20s to 50s … and most are close to 40, young enough to have grown up with early video games." Joshua Henderson, at 14, is the world’s youngest ranked player. His father, Mark, says the appeal is not mysterious. "Pinball is part of Americana; US made and developed and the mother and father of today’s gaming industry." Or, as Stuart Wright, 46, puts it: "We all come together for the love of the silver ball."

The "more than 26,000 Disney Princess items on the market" yielded some $4 billion in sales in 2009, reports Annie Murphy Paul in a New York Times review of Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein (1/23/11). Selling princess gear to little girls is actually a relatively new profit center for Disney. It all started in 2000, when Disney executive Andy Mooney attended a "Disney on Ice" show and "found himself surrounded by little girls in (homemade) princess costumes."

As marketing, writes Peggy, this was "genius, dovetailing with the precise moment that girls need to prove they are girls, when they will latch onto the most exaggerated images their culture offers in order to stridently shore up their femininity." Indeed, "developmental psychology research shows that until as late as age seven, children are convinced that external signs — clothing, hairstyle, favorite color, choice of toys" define their gender identity.

Peggy, herself, appears to be conflicted about all of this, writing: "Just because little girls wear the tulle does not mean they’ve drunk the Kool-aid. Plenty of them shoot baskets in ball gowns or cast themselves as the powerful evil stepsister bossing around the sniveling Cinderella. Yet, even if girls stray from the prescribed script, doesn’t it exert its influence? Don’t our possessions reflect who we are; shape, even define our experience?" Then again, as Annie Murphy Paul points out, the thing about phases is that kids grow out of them.

Barnes & Noble’s hopes for growth involve store-within-a-store boutiques featuring educational toys merchandised for gift-giving, reports Jeffrey A. Trachtenberg in the Wall Street Journal (11/12/10). The in-store boutiques will try "to eliminate some of the frustration that often accompanies gift-giving to children by clearly indicating which toys are intended for kids two and under; three to five; six to eight, and nine through twelve."

"It will help Uncle George," says Kathleen Campisano vp of toys and games at Barnes and Noble, explaining the merchandising approach. As Jaime Carey, chief merchandising officer, explains: "When customers learn there is a well-curated selection of educational toys and games available, it will drive traffic into the stores … We’ve sold educational toys and games online for some time, and it’s been a great business … But we didn’t have a consequential assorment in the stores."

The boutiques — which Barnes is currently testing in five stores — occupy 3,000 square feet and feature "more than 2,000 educational games and toys … the boutiques will allow children to interact with products on game tables, enabling them to draw, build and use hand-held devices." They will replace "the music and DVD departments" and will also have some "adult games and puzzles intended for those 13 and older." Barnes, which will continue to carry some 200,000 books per store, is also building 1,000-square-foot boutiques to promote its Nook e-reader."