Little Shop Minis: I’ll defend them ‘til the end

SURE they’re made of plastic and kids will get sick of them in ten minutes, but how are Coles’ latest promotional items for kids any different from any yo-yo or fidget-spinner, asks Darren Levin.

THEY’VE been described as “nonsensical”, environmentally damaging”, and a “waste of resources”.

But enough about your children. Let’s talk about the most pressing issue of 2018: Coles’ Little Shop Minis promotion.

According to detractors these replicas of real-life products are circumventing parents and marketing directly to children in “insidious” and “exploitative” ways. They’re also responsible for all the ills of the world: JoJo Siwa, housing affordability and, obviously, climate change.

And while our seven-year-old recently spent her pocket money on a 700ml bottle of White King Power Clean, I’m struggling to see what the big fuss over these little things is about.

Australians are reportedly exposed to 3000 brand messages in a single day, so why shouldn’t kids be able to make an informed choice when it comes to stain remover, shoe polish, toilet gel, or Tim Tams?

As a try-hard adult I often feel paralysed by choice at the supermarket — tossing up between Pizza and BBQ Shapes adds around seven minutes to each shop — so anything that helps kids navigate this scary world like a boss is fine by me.

When they look as cute as this, it’s pretty easy to see why kids love Coles’ Little Shop Minis. (Pic: Coles)

I’ll admit all those Little Shop swap meets and insane eBay price tags seemed a little unhinged at first. Then I mentally replaced “Little Shop” with “Brazilian disco records” and booked myself into therapy.

And parents, let’s not pretend we’re above these fads. Dust off a memory card from 2004 and you’ll probably find a photo of yourself, Vodka Cruiser in hand, repping a garish yellow bracelet that did as much for fundraising as Lance Armstrong did for cycling.

In fact, it was adults — not kids — who lined up for 30 metres at a suburban Sydney shopping centre to trade their minis and complete their lives, er, I mean set.

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“I went to Coles and bought items I didn’t need for the sole purpose of acquiring more minis,” admitted one addicted mum told Mamamia.

Another argument against these supposed Little Shop of horrors is they exacerbate the great plastic bag backflip of 2018 because — wait for it — kids will get sick of them and they will eventually be turfed.

Newsflash numpties, but this is the goldfish-like lifespan of virtually every toy. I don’t remember this outrage when Shopkins were cool for about 16 seconds in 2016. And let’s pour one out for fidget spinners, whose reign of terror lasted the six days it took my daughter’s $268 glow-in-the-dark tri-spinner to arrive from Germany. Fidget spinners, more like landfill cloggers, amirite?

Coles’ Little Shop Minis have been going for hundreds of dollars on sites like Gumtree and eBay. (Pic: Gumtree)

Furbies. Zhu Zhu Pets. Silly Bandz. Pet Rocks. Ninja Turtles. Magic 8-Balls. Tamagotchi. Basketball cards. Mood rings. Nerf guns. Super Soakers. Beanie Babies. Tazos. iPhones.

If there’s one certainty about parenthood — other than globus pharynges or a stifling sense of dread — it’s that one day your kid will get sucked into a fad.

How you respond says more about you than them. You can either embrace it as a pop cultural marker — just as yo-yos, slinkies and Pogs were in the Middle Ages — or invent a reason to go postal on Cole’s Facebook page and completely ruin an intern’s day.

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Why not save your toxicity for a worthy target like an anti-vaxxer relative or parents who refer to their baby boy as “little man”?

Like the old adage goes: when life gives you lemon scented mini dishwashing tablets use it as an opportunity to connect with your kids.

So I asked one of my several daughters what she liked about the Little Shop minis and her answer flies in the face of all those who think they’re just worthless trash.

“They look so cool in my dollhouse dad.”

When’s the next swap meet?

Darren Levin is a writer, editor and wannabe dad-fluencer based in Melbourne. Find him on Twitter and Instagram.