This article was originally published as part of the joke issue on 12.5.2013
There was a time when people didn’t avoid trans fat, when “Super Size Me” wasn’t even an idea in Morgan Spurlock’s head and when my parents would do anything to shut me up. And during that time, I was a Happy Meal girl. If you ever had a childhood, you know: The Happy Meal is all about the toy. A Polly Pocket and McDonald’s collaboration in 1998 produced a blonde, plastic doll that was my dearest companion for three months straight. I like to think I’ve grown up since my toddler years, but if there’s one thing that’s stayed the same, it’s that I love—and always will love—free shit.
Right now, at the 40th Street McDonald’s, there are two toy options. The first is a plastic football player and requisite football, promoting Nicktoons’ “NFL Rush Zone.” The other is a Build–A–Bear Workshop “mini–friend,” a tiny stuffed animal that comes with a coupon for $10 off in–store.
So, why am I, a grown–ass college student, still fascinated by these toys? Obviously, I love that they’re free with purchase (though some people re–sell them: the Eagles Rush Zone character is currently going for up to $8.99 on Ebay, and the complete set of eight mini–friends will run you $21.95). But it’s the business element that really intrigues me. So much better than your average sweatshop–grown tchotchke, they’re also a genius marketing ploy. Because of these toys, Nickelodeon doesn’t need to bother finding other advertising for the new season of “NFL Rush Zone: Guardians Unleashed,” and Build–A–Bear doesn’t need a crazy Black Friday sale to get you into their stores. Every kid eats Happy Meals. If you toy them, they will come.
It’s not all about the biz, however. These toys are representative of a much larger cultural phenomenon: transmedia. TV shows don’t just exist in your living room, and a store is no longer just an alcove at your local mall. They’ve infiltrated every corner of media and, through the power of interactivity, have become so much more. The NFL has a website that goes along with their show—a frenetic, technicolor “online football community for kids” featuring games, half–baked animations and probably a pedophile or two. Build–A–Bear has BearVille, an entire virtual world designed to siphon money out of parents’ pockets via microtransactions. It’s a TV show or it’s a store, but it’s also an online “community,” a printable activity page, a message board, a blog post, a YouTube video and, of course, a Happy Meal toy.
I wonder what those toddler years would have been like if Polly had existed outside of my pocket, if I had been able to play with her online and connect with other kids doing the same, all while finding out about the many friends and clothes I could buy her. Chances are, I would’ve decided to ditch the free shit and turn my attention to all the extra stuff my parents could find and fund.
The Happy Meal has existed since 1979, but the simple idea one small–time St. Louis advertiser had is becoming more brilliant and less simple with each new toy. While the toys at the 40th Street McDonald’s might not be the best Penn dorm room decor, the strategy behind them will certainly appeal to any Quaker interested in advertising, marketing and transmedia consumerism. For every smile they put on a kid’s (or a college student’s) face, they also drop a whole lot of money in someone’s pocket. And in the end, everybody’s lovin’ it.
