December 8: I have revised this post. The PR person who sent me the pitch did not like the fact that I'd reprinted it here in its entirety, and on reflection, I suppose that wasn't a nice thing for me to do. I figured it was a courtesy to let her know that I'd used her information, even though it had set me off on a rant I'd been thinking of for several weeks as I've been inundated with pitches for products -- as if my only purpose here is to be a shill for umpteen different companies.
I had two points I wanted to make in this post: First, I enjoy partnering with companies when they offer something I can work with. It's not so much a "what's in it for me" attitude in that I want the products - it's more of a quest for something fun and experiential to write about. But if companies want to send me products to try out and write about -- or to give away to my readers -- they have a better chance of getting my attention than if they are just going to send me press release telling me about the product... unless that product strikes me as very interesting or funny. That was the case with the product I mentioned in this post.
The second point I wanted to make had to do with the irony of the product being pitched at this time.
Like a lot of members of my community (moms who blog, or bloggers who happen to be moms, or mommy bloggers, or whatever you want to call it) -- I have a lot of ambivalence towards PR folks.
Don't get me wrong - I LOVE it when I am pitched something relevant to my life, something that can be used as material for this blog, or am offered a review product that I can sink my teeth into.
The operative word there is "relevant." This year, I am awash in emailed press releases on every topic imaginable. It's as if every press agent in the world has put me on a list and sends me whatever he or she has, just to see it it will stick.
The irrelevant ones go straight into my Trash folder without a response. For the record: I am mother to a MIDDLE SCHOOLER. Our days of using sippy cups, car seats and anything to do with diapers are long GONE. Why would I write about them (except to exult in the fact that I don't have a need for them any more)?
I am not a magazine with advertising revenue and a staff of writers who need assignments. I am an individual, and I use this spot to write about my own individual experiences in whatever limited time I've got between taking care of my family and home. I don't make much money from this endeavor, and that's okay, because I didn't start it to make money.
And I don't often need to search for material. Believe me, I've already got too much material and too little time.
The pitches I love include some kind of experience, allowing me to be a modern-day George Plimpton and do things I wouldn't get to do otherwise. I jumped at the opportunity to work with the folks at Nintendo, who helped me host an elaborate party, invited me to play Supermarket Sweep and promoted me as a person of interest over at People magazine. I got to party and be educated (and horrified!) as a participant at Johnson & Johnson's Camp Baby (an experience that was one of the highlights of the year). I even took it in the arm at the California Women's Conference, courtesy of CVS, which was handing out free flu shots.
If not for PR interest in this blog, I never would have enjoyed an intimate dinner last year with General Motors Vice Chairman Bob Lutz and or be given a week's use of one of their new car models, so I could review it. My family was privileged to enjoy a day at Sea World and a party last week at Disneyland (which we ended up missing, due to daughter's flu-like virus thing). The folks at Epson and Hewlett-Packard have been very generous with holiday gifting tips (the latter was a victim of my time management issues; I very much enjoyed attending their Moms Night Out last month, but I never wrote about it. However, my friend Liz wrote about it - and even got to give away a fabulous new printer.).
The last several weeks, most of the pitches I received have been focused on holiday gift ideas. I've been getting quite a few from the online gift wish service at American Express. None of it has been really relevant for this site. However, I got a pitch today that struck me as highly ironic -- and worth sharing:
On
Sunday, December 14, American Express' My WishList program will feature the
American Girl: Kit Kittredge Movie Collection for an unheard-of price: $250.
This is actually a great deal: The package includes two dolls and books (both Kit and her friend Ruthie, each retailing for $90 - but you can buy both dolls and their accessories from the catalog for $205). You also get Kit's dog ($18) and Kit's treehouse playset ($250). If you bought all of these items separately from the catalog, it would cost you $478 (!)
But I found this pitch highly ironic. Let me explain.
Overall, I love the American Girl concept and the American Girl line of toys. I love the idea of using these toys to teach history in a way that's meaningful to young people.
I could not wait for my daughter to be old enough to appreciate American Girl, and got her the first book for each doll in the series - she went on to read ALL the books for ALL the characters (they were the first books she actually ENJOYED, and I'm missing that now that she's obsessed with Twilight, like the rest of the seventh graders in her school).
Her favorite American Girl was Felicity, and for a few years, she was happy to receive clothing and accessories for her Felicity doll (which is currently laying on her replica four-poster canopy bed, unplayed with for several months).
Kit Kittredge was her second-favorite character. My daughter was struck by the life Kit led - you see, Kit and her family coped and managed to survive all the hardships of the 1930's -- yeah, the Great Depression.
So I think it's kind of ironic that American Express is offering the Kit collection -- for the discounted rate of $250 -- at a time when we seem to be plummeting into the worst economic disaster SINCE the Great Depression.
That's all. It struck me as funny -- in a sad kind of way.
I'm glad my daughter has outgrown the beautiful dolls. I'm glad I don't have a younger daughter who would want one of her own. Because this year, we wouldn't be able to do it - even at the highly discounted price of $250. This year, we're worried about the future. This year, we'll be doing everything more simply.
This year, we'll be living our lives a little more like Kit Kittredge and her family. And that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Recent Comments