Nice Package

The British satirical magazine VIZ (which, by way of context, specialises in schoolboy-toilet-wall-level humour - which I find frequently hysterical) features a regular page entitled 'Top Tips', in which peeved readers write in suggesting sarcastic or ridiculous household hints.

I found over the holiday break that a veritable flood of similar hints occurred to me.

Toy manufacturers: Be sure to encase your most robustly-constructed metal products in rigid, 3-millimetre thick industrial-grade plastic, fused, heat-shrunk and crimped at the edges for a secure seal. This will indefinitely extend the kiddies' anticipation of actually playing with their new toys while Dad uses scissors, a knife, tradesmans' tin snips, or possibly, a chainsaw, to remove the outer casing.

Honestly. The logic of packaging simply defies belief.

Eggs, for example, are provided in a carton so soft and fibrous that the cautious buyer routinely checks for breakages before purchase. Yet items that would be only lightly grazed by close proximity to a thermonuclear blast apparently need to be coddled in layers of armour and freed by rescue squad members wielding the Jaws of Life.

This degree of somewhat unnecessary protection can lead to frustration, not to mention pain. My personal highlight this Christmas was when a kitchen knife, which I had, in desperation, wrestled into an apparently unassailable Tamagotchi package, slipped, its point sliding in an instant down my thumbnail before lodging, as a finale, firmly in the cuticle. And, after all, what is the festive season without a trip to the local Emergency Department?

Part of marketing popular dolls and action figures is setting them in lifelike, action poses within their packages. A big Christmas thank you to those dedicated foreign sweatshop workers who are paid a pittance to spend their workdays anchoring the dolls in place, by manually twisting lengthy pieces of wire into a Gordian knot behind the backing cardboard. One suspects their diligence may be driven in part by the prospect of exacting some small degree of petty revenge on wealthy Western consumers.

These bits of wire, insulated with plastic for safety - yet, for unwary adults, often surprisingly sharp at the ends! - in extreme cases may be additionally threaded through a small plastic grate, which locks the bonds in place, presumably to prevent the possibility of escape attempts by the action figure in question.

Perhaps the packaging of modern dolls represents a subtle nod to 21st century culture. Barbies and Bratz exist in disposable, plastic worlds, skin taut, hair taped down and sewn flat, and limbs stiff, in much the same way as the body parts of celebritiy role models like Victoria Beckham and Nicole Ritchie remain curiously motionless and unlifelike.

I'd also like to pay tribute here to those toy manufacturers who have refined the science of typography further than was thought possible. Their latest advances are demonstrated on the comprehensive instruction sheets that accompany new toys. Craftsmen who can engrave The Lord's Prayer on the head of a pin have nothing on Mattel. I adore the irony that instruction-sheet font is getting smaller year by year, just as its target audience of middle-aged fathers is battling with annually deteriorating eyesight.

And a special mention to the manufacturers of toys from countries where English is not a first language, and often not even a fifth. Instructions contained in items from these countries require first deciphering, partial translation and finally, creative interpretation as well.

Still and all, things have generally improved when it comes to kids' toys. The dreaded small-print notation of days past - "(Batteries Not Included)" - was rarely noticed by parents desperate to finish their Christmas toy shopping. But that one small oversight would prompt a chorus of wails on Christmas morning from unlucky young recipients whose prized gifts lay mute and powerless, and would remain that way until the battery shops reopened after Boxing Day. No more.

Today, thoughtful toy manufacturers have developed special batteries that come pre-installed and last as long as three days before expiring. Those same manufacturers have doubtless since bought controlling interests in the companies that make batteries, too.