I don’t know what’s going on in the industrial design and manufacturing centers of the world, but something has gone horribly wrong somewhere if you need tools to open toy packaging.
Underground nuclear testing has confirmed that Barbie™ packaging is one of the most durable forms of matter in the known universe. A Bratz™ doll package was recently bombarded with dual proton beams with an energy of 7 trillion electronvolts per particle in the Large Hadron Collider. The package emerged completely unscathed, but it is believed that one of the twist-ties may have been loosened slightly.
First you have to try to get into the box, which has ingenious interlocking tabs. These tabs are so ingenious that nothing else would be required to securely package the toy, but someone has still seen fit to apply heavy duty packing tape and amazingly strong transparent adhesive discs to every seam of the box.
Once inside, you discover that every little plastic shoe, comb, etc. is encased in hardened molded plastic. The plastic mold has somehow been heat-welded to the box, which requires you to use tremendous force to pull it off. Most of the toy parts are firmly retained in the molded plastic when it goes flying across the room, but two or three are jettisoned. You’ll spend an hour or two looking for those later. But why spend the time and money to build a mold? Why not just put all of the little pieces in a little plastic bag?
Next you find approximately 3000 heavy-gauge industrial wire twist-ties securing the doll to a reinforced cardboard backing. The twisted end of each of the twist-ties has been folded down and secured to the back of the cardboard with packing tape, and in some cases covered with another layer of cardboard and packing tape. These twist-ties have apparently have been installed using a high-torque industrial twist-tie spinner, and can only be removed with pliers or wire cutters. You can try scissors, but you’ll ruin the scissors and probably cut yourself.
Finally there’s the hair, which is is secured to the box with heavy duty cellophane interwoven with some sort of advanced mono-filament mesh — possibly obtained from a crashed alien spacecraft — that retains its strength even when portions of it are cut.
And this is just for one doll. Then you have the big items — the boats, the planes, the houses, the castles. Poorly written and illustrated assembly procedures. And dozens of decals to apply. Please dear God, not the decals again!
Christmas is the worst. Literally days following will be spent assembling stuff. And there are ongoing maintenance tasks involving inflating things, filling things with water, putting things in the freezer, and providing ice water and hot water to facilitate temperature-state-induced color changes.
Then we have drug packaging. Okay, a long time ago, someone messed with the Tylenol™. So I’ll acknowledge there was a packaging issue, but I think we overreacted. Opening drug packaging is difficult for normal people, and almost impossible for the elderly. There has to be a way to make it safe, but easier to open.
But what happened with the condiments? Why are the mustard and ketchup containers now sealed as if they are pharmaceutical products? Why does the chocolate syrup have not only an outer seal that requires scissors to open, but also an inner foil-plastic seal under the cap? I have not read any reports about terrorists targeting our chocolate syrup. And just to note: the perforations on the outer plastic never work. You always need scissors. That’s part of the sadistic plan.
Then there are the resealable bags that things like croutons and some brands of coffee come in. The rip-slit-open-here thing never works — it always rips above the seal, so you have to go get scissors to finish the job. Why bother putting the little slits there to begin with?
Small appliances — they’re in a sealed box. Safely nestled in a Styrofoam cradle. In a plastic bag. So why does the keypad need a special plastic protector, which is so good you don’t realize it’s there? I recently bought a microwave. A few weeks went by, and I started to see weird little wrinkles on the keypad. I started to think it was the normal coating that was coming off, and I needed to call the manufacturer. Then I finally realized it was just a packaging thing I was supposed to have peeled off to begin with. But it really wasn’t necessary to begin with.
I’m guessing that if we redesigned all of this packaging for the purpose of protecting products that are being shipped in a truck or airplane — not run over by a truck or dropped from an airplane — we could see a significant decrease in retail prices. We’d have a lot more spare time on our hands to actually play with the toys with our children. Life would be much better. And much less WEIRD.

















