This last one, I believe, is the photographer’s daughter.
Comments
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Blurpa
it’s interesting to note that the boys’ toys are less gendered in that they include many colors other than blue, whereas the girls’ toys are completely pink, which kind of goes along with the whole male-as-normal and female-as-gendered thing……just a thought
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pharmacopaeia
I don’t know what squicks me out more, the gendering of the toys or the excessive consumption – it just seems to perpetuate the myth that if you don’t buy your kids lots and lots of ’stuff’ (preferably name-brand stuff) you’re not a good parent.
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Penny
I’m such a mom, my first reaction was “Now who’s going to put all that stuff away?”
Honestly, it wouldn’t take much spending to create such a tableau. When you have a preschool-age daughter, mothers of slightly older girls gladly pass along boxes and bags of boots and shoes and dresses and t-shirts and tiaras–even if you say no to half of it, you’ll still end up with heaps of hand-me-downs (and you’ll turn around and do the same to another mom in a few months). And they’re lining up each and every fork and spoon from little 99-cent store packets of plastic nonsense that have become de rigueur for birthday party goody bags, for example. You could throw away a bucket of that kind of flotsam every Sunday (it would never be missed) and you’d still never make a dent, because it just keeps coming…
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Penny
One more observation: it’s not unusual for kids today to have four, five, or more living, spending grandparents–and if there’s any competition among them (competitive boomers? but how?), you end up with closets full of gifts that you can’t easily refuse. Now add in the real possibility that you’re getting boxes of gifts every birthday and holiday from a couple great-grandparents, too.
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aaron bady
How staged is the narrative of “girls stuff are pink and boy’s stuff is blue and all have an excess of stuff” I wonder? I mean, it’s not like the photographer just snapped a photo of a normal day here, and things like the overwhelming color scheme (and overwhelming quantity, improbably lined up) seem to be exactly the point of th epicture. Not that I find that narrative to be *wrong* or anything, but it just seems worth pointing out that this is a highly self-conscious (even ironic?) set of images, which are so easily interpretable because they were staged to be. I tried to find the original photos on the photographer’s site, but couldn’t (though there is a lot of really striking stuff there).
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Wisaakah
Aaron:
I think that’s a good point. The images are probably meant to make obvious that which is (usually) more subtle. But it’s also important to note that most of the objects pictured in the girls’ rooms would very likely not be found in a boy’s room, and vice versa. If you think about the sheer volume of stuff, even assuming that there’s much more where it all came from, there really is an overwhelming color scheme. I’m assuming, of course, that the photograper actually used their own belongings.
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Abby
As a new mom, this stuff – both the gendering and the consumption – terrifies me! Penny is completely right – no matter how much my husband and I reject gendered baby stuff and try to keep the consumption to a minimum, it just keeps pouring in from grandparents and parents of older kids. In a way, I feel relieved that I have a son, because there is at least some variation in color (not the compulsory pink). Among the mostly green, yellow and blue wardrobe, we also have a few pink items of clothing and bedding for him. The truth is, his skin looks fantastic in pink! It’s absolutely the best color on him. But I’ve surprised myself by feeling nervous about dressing him in a “girls’” color – anticipating the negative reactions of others, even though so far there has been no negative comment from anyone. My mom (a feminist) thought it was cute that he was swaddled in pink. I’m sure my mother-in-law does not find it so cute, but she has managed to keep her mouth shut. It bothers me that I am the one doing the gender policing (or at least feeling uneasy about breaking the rules).
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Pork With Bones
In that first photo, I had to look for a moment to spot the real child. I initially mistook her for yet another doll.
Abby — my son is now four years old. I found when he was an infant that I got more people commenting on my adorable little “girl” when I dressed him in white than in pink, perhaps partly because I never dressed him in entirely pink outfits, in pink combined with purple, or in pink dresses.
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