Mum, I need this monster

Forget Tamagotchis. Pokemons are the new must-have toys to collect. Marina Baker gives the new craze a test run

Marina Baker
Tuesday 03 August 1999 23:02 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

It had to happen. A group of children assembled last week in a Brighton home to take part in Britain's first Pokemon party. Pokemon? Oh where have you been? They are a range of 150 pocket monsters to collect, and toy- makers Hasbro want your children to own all of them.

Pokemon is the world's biggest computer game, and its spin-offs include 150 characters distributed across a number of different toy-types, including power bouncers - that's a ball to you - and battery- operated figurines which say their name (although it sounds like they're shouting "I'm very angry" in Japanese). There are also Pokemon Beanie babies, "guaranteed to be this year's No 1 toy accessory", according to the blurb. And you thought "toy accessory" was something akin to a Barbie handbag.

Children are expected to buy some, trade others and, if reports from America and Japan, where the craze has already caught on, mean anything, resort to mugging in the quest for a whole set. In Japan, it's estimated that 50 per cent of all seven- to 12-year-olds are addicted to Pokemon.

If parents want to throw money at it, an entire collection, not allowing for black-market prices, will contribute pounds 375.18 to Hasbro's coffers - more than the combined cost of four Teletubbies, a Furby, a Tamagotchi, skipping-rope, Yo-Yo, all the Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles and an enormous bag of marbles.

Then there are videos, a film, cable-TV show, CD, GameBoy, trading cards, and just about anything else capable of carrying a logo. Nippon Airlines has six aircraft within its fleet with full Pokemon liveries, flying non- stop from Tokyo to San Francisco. And for the over-17s there is a bespoke Volkswagen Pokemon Beetle. Branded salads, lemonades and cookies are also available in the States.

"It's a wonderful scam," says chartered educational psychologist Jenni Smith. "No one needs these things, but they will want them because advertisers are manipulating them. Kids enjoy crazes and collecting things, as do grown-ups. Think of people who collect anything from bus tickets to vintage cars."

"We love to own lots of things. Owning a set of things brings a feeling of completion, which we find appealing. It's the satisfaction wrought from completing a task.

The Brighton children didn't know they wanted Pokemons. Harvey Gunn-Humphryes, four, announces: "The tail's fallen off." The tails are very loose. They "hide the Philips screw for the battery box", explains a spokesman.

"Aah, it's ickle and scary," says Alex Waters, two, kissing purple, spikey Gengar. The older girls examine the bug-eyed monsters, glancing at each other to gauge the correct response. "Sweet," they agree, before Meowth's tail drops off.

But would they collect them? Did they enjoy collecting? "I do," says Harvey's sister, Rosie, seven. "I have four beanies." Her mother interjected: "She doesn't really collect them. She just likes them."

Would the children swap them in the playground? "We're not allowed to swap things at school," said Amy Gunn-Humphryes, 10. Her mother reminds her that she used to collect Spice Girls cards. "No I didn't." "Yes you did," says her mum. "She's grown out of it now, though."

Katie Waters, eight, leans forward, whispering: "We're not allowed to do swapsies either, but I know someone who does. Her name is..."

No, let's leave her out of this.

"I like this ball," says Harvey. Because there is a monster suspended in the clear rubber? "No," says Harvey. "I like balls."

The latest craze was getting off to a slow start. "Well, there's nothing special about the Pokemon themselves," says Smith. "Crazes begin because someone brings the things to school and suddenly they all want them. Parents add to the hype because they feel they don't spend enough time with their offspring owing to work commitments. Buying these toys stops them feeling their kids are neglected. Pokemon could just as well be something else, such as conkers." Except conkers come free off trees and have no marketing budget, ensuring that Pokemon will prove heaps more popular next season.

If your children do get the bug - and they will - do not worry. "Pokemons can't harm," says Smith. "They will use them in imaginary play as they do with other toys. This is all perfectly natural. And take mugging reports with a pinch of salt. It smacks of a PR gimmick. Bigger children will use force on younger ones in order to get what they want. It's called bullying. Look at how children are raised rather than to toys like this."

The trading aspect is also deemed harmless. "It's the same buzz experienced dealing stocks and shares," says Smith. "Children learn through role play and by copying adults. A child who successfully trades his Pokemon may have a good career ahead in the City."

The potent mix of aggressive marketing pitted against human frailty has generated a $2.3bn industry in America and Japan, where Pokemon worship is almost a national religion. This figure will be bumped up by a few million when the toys arrive in Britain this October.

Except that not all 150 characters will be available. Obviously. Hasbro isn't that silly. Just 25 will be released before Christmas, followed by 39 in January. Further delivery dates are uncertain. But it's safe to assume that a menagerie of Pokemon will be kept back until the end of the year 2000, ensuring a second bite at the highly lucrative Christmas- market cherry.

"How brilliant," says Jenni Smith. "I'm a believer in the infinite sensibleness of children. They'll want these things for a while, then go off them. That's what crazes are about."

Once the photographer had finished, the children dumped the Pokemon and rushed out to the garden. So much for the "must have" factor. But that evening, Pokemon were plugged on cable TV. "The kids didn't know what they had before that," says Paula Waters the next day. "Now they can't believe they're the first children here to own some. They're mooning around, displaying the kind of affection they once reserved for Tamagotchis. I'm afraid that they're hooked."

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in