The Hello Kitty invasion

Let not this referendum campaign distract you from more pressing matters at hand. Forget divorce, there’s never been any doubt what the Malta really needs, and it’s finally here: a black Hello Kitty credit card complete with pink and silver glitter. Eat your heart out you credit cards with boring Grand Harbour scenes.

This credit card of the small, rounded cartoon cat with a red bow between her ears and no mouth, will apparently give shopping a new glamorous touch. It is targeted at ‘females who like to shop around in style and get noticed with their exclusive Hello Kitty Credit.’

Ha ha. Who’s going to fall for that, I thought, as I was driving past the billboard. I had barely finished the whole train of thought when an enthusiastic voice next to me said: “Hey, look at that.”

And it wasn’t my four-year old. It was my 32-year old sister. “That would look cute in my purse,” she said. It’s times like these that I start believing what I used to spin to her when we were young: that we come from different planets altogether.

True, I am not particularly enamoured of this little half-Japanese, half-English cat. I see enough of her day in day out: my daughter’s pencil case, pyjamas, T-shirts, hair bands, hair clips and Lord knows what else.

In fact I think I’m about to start campaigning for the right to divorce from these overexposed brands. But surely, even if you look at it objectively, a credit card is taking it a bit too far?

“Are you nuts?” I said to my sister, “that’s kiddies’ stuff”. And from there ensued a massive debate:

Sis: “You’re just being a snob. Hello Kitty is vintage. It’s been around since before you were born.”

Me: “Humph.” (Kitty was born in 1974, which makes her a mere year older than me.)

Sis: “It’s a brilliant piece of artwork – no matter how commercial it’s become it still hasn’t aged.”

Me: “Oh, puh-huh. Hello Kitty is for the kind of girls who past their 25th birthday still have a bedroom full of soft toys.”

Sis: “Not! I don’t have a single cuddly toy anywhere in the house, but I like her.”

Right at that point, from the back of the car, my daughter felt she had to give her contribution to the discussion: “Don’t worry auntie; if you really like her you can buy a Hello Kitty laptop. Can you get it please? Mummy doesn’t want to.”

My point exactly. See what’s happening here? This Kittymania is no longer being aimed at children. It is aimed at grownups. Out there there are all sorts of kitty cat merchandise aimed not at those who are still earning pocket money, but at those who are burning high salaries.

Cue the Hello Kitty Swarovski jewellery to lurid Kitty-pink laptops costing more than €1,000. No kid could ever afford that. So while still providing for her avid pre-teen fans, there is also a host of grown-up products that sport the character, such as, for example, Hello Kitty sanitary towels – which I came across at the supermarket the other day.

This is a classic case of a brand which is growing with its consumers. Kitty started life as a greeting-card character but quickly expanded into children’s merchandising and fashion.

But then these kids grew up and why lose the army of potential customers? “Let’s encourage these consuming habits and create a seamless brand loyalty,” cried the Japanese Hello Kitty CEO, dressed all in pink.

Helen McCarthy, author and expert on Japanese animation and comics says Hello Kitty stands for the innocence and sincerity of childhood and the simplicity of the world.

“Women and girls all over the world are happy to buy in to the image of the trusting, loving childhood that Hello Kitty represents. They don’t want to let go of that image, so as they grow up, they hang onto Hello Kitty out of nostalgic longing – so they can somehow keep hold of a fragment of their childhood self,” she says.

I don’t really get this. My house is not cluttered with toasters or alarm clocks or T-shirts of Mimi, the cartoon character of my childhood. Mimi, a volleyball player, is one of the images I have of my childhood, but even though I used to spend days jumping off the chair trying to slam high,at some point I let her go.

It looks to me like we are postponing the transition from girl-child to woman, by simply hammering on the cute-to-boot ideal. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“You know what all this means don’t you?” said my Freudian sister, later. “You have a love-hate relationship with credit-cards.” Hmph.