This is the story of how I accidentally became a Mini Lalaloopsy first adopter.
I'll spare you the nitpicky rant on the woeful misapplication of a certain piece of music in this ad.
To quote a recent chat session:
1.) It's a whole race of dolls from a parallel universe where Coraline's Other Mother is not a soul-sucking b****! and
2.) I just HAD to give these people props for actually making an astronomer doll. (She has her own little moon globe! And a toy rocket! COME ON!)
I guess the moment I wouldn't stop doing double-takes the first time I saw them at a store, I should've known I was already doomed. And despite Neil Gaiman's very authoritative words on the subject, I still fell for these things hook, line and sinker.
Now, to clarify, I am chiefly a fan of the Minis and not the full-sized dolls themselves. Just so you know, the main Lalaloopsy brand is centered on these larger dolls with skinny legs and button-eyed bobble heads meant to emulate the floppiness of a traditional hand-sewn rag doll. And frankly if I wanted a doll that flopped around like a real rag doll, I could always make one myself.
|Hopefully with less Humanoid Abomination characteristics.|
I also can't help but appreciate the fact that the original boxes the Minis came in can also double as their houses, a nod to thoughtful product design at the very least. And it also lessens the sort of packaging grief I used to experience with, uh, other lines I collect.
The moral of the story? It pays to be a chick sometimes.