Sure, they’re getting cool new shoes. But they’re still not getting into Bath Camp.
The biz world has been abuzz about the Cabbage Patch Kids's planned fashion makeover. Malibu-based Jakks Pacific, which makes the toy version of the Georgia-born mushy, moonfaced doll icon, is about to give 'em all "Twinkle Toes." Those are those light up-and-sparkle Skechers sneakers that are all the rage among human kids right now. Jakks hopes to goose its "Kids" sales by "linking it to products better known by today's girls," reports Bloomberg Businessweek.
We certainly wish them well. But it won't move those Kids up one bit in the coveted Cabbage Patch Pecking Order.
A brief history lesson: In 1978, former art student Xavier Roberts opened BabyLand General Hospital in Cleveland, Ga., where the public could come to "adopt" his one-of-a-kind, soft sculpture "Little People Originals." Four years later, his company, Original Appalachian Artworks, signed a licensing agreement allowing a major manufacturer to produce a smaller, toy version of what had been redubbed "Cabbage Patch Kids."
Over the years, different big-name toymakers from Mattel to Hasbro to Play Along Toys (which Jakks now owns) have taken turns snatching up the licensing agreement; all along, though, Babyland General has remained in Cleveland and kept on making "Original Handstitched Cabbage Patch Kids." These kids are made of handstitched fabric from head to toe (the toy version head is vinyl), and, naturally, they're pretty pricey ("Originals" cost $199 and up, whereas toy Kids start around $30 in toy stores and online). No two Originals are exactly alike, and they can only be purchased … er, adopted … in person at BabyLand General or on its web site.
Most important, Originals are the only Kids who can go to Bath Camp. That’s what BabyLand General calls the hospital-cum-spa where dolls who’ve grown old and weary or maybe been loved a bit too much can check in to have their eyelashes repainted, their arms sewn back on — even, ahem, their butt “crack-itis” fixed.
Check out this earlier AJC story on Bath Camp, which sounds like a totally swell — if slightly mysterious —place to hang out.
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