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Disney's Frozen: The power of princess merchandising Disney's Frozen: The power of princess merchandising
(about 17 hours later)
The Patriot Centre at George Mason University, half an hour west of Washington, is a popular place to watch concerts, college athletics, professional wrestling and other events that command the attention of the adult world. But no event in the 29-year history of the arena has attracted as many people or earnt as much money as October's performances of "Disney on Ice Presents Frozen". For six days, waves of little blue-and-white Princess Elsas – and quite a few costumed parents – sang the movie's hit song "Let it Go" at the top of their lungs, enjoyed £10 snow cones (syrup-soaked ice shavings), posed for £15 pictures with cardboard cut-outs, and waved plastic sticks, which had miraculously become £18 magic wands.The Patriot Centre at George Mason University, half an hour west of Washington, is a popular place to watch concerts, college athletics, professional wrestling and other events that command the attention of the adult world. But no event in the 29-year history of the arena has attracted as many people or earnt as much money as October's performances of "Disney on Ice Presents Frozen". For six days, waves of little blue-and-white Princess Elsas – and quite a few costumed parents – sang the movie's hit song "Let it Go" at the top of their lungs, enjoyed £10 snow cones (syrup-soaked ice shavings), posed for £15 pictures with cardboard cut-outs, and waved plastic sticks, which had miraculously become £18 magic wands.
Behold the bewitching power of branding. In the year since Disney's latest princess movie, Frozen, opened last November, Elsa and her sister Anna have rapidly become two of the world's most successful product endorsers. Disney said earlier this month that it had already sold three million Frozen dresses in North America, which, as it happens, is roughly the number of four-year-old girls in North America. In January, Frozen wedding dresses go on sale for £750. Next summer, Adventures by Disney is offering tours of Norwegian sites that inspired the film's animators, at prices starting north of £3,200. The company is also rolling out Frozen-branded "apples and grapes, juice, yoghurt, bandages and a complete oral-care line". Disney estimates that Frozen has brought in around £65m in retail revenue over the past year. The company's chief executive, Robert A Iger, told CNBC that he expected holiday sales to be "very, very hot".Behold the bewitching power of branding. In the year since Disney's latest princess movie, Frozen, opened last November, Elsa and her sister Anna have rapidly become two of the world's most successful product endorsers. Disney said earlier this month that it had already sold three million Frozen dresses in North America, which, as it happens, is roughly the number of four-year-old girls in North America. In January, Frozen wedding dresses go on sale for £750. Next summer, Adventures by Disney is offering tours of Norwegian sites that inspired the film's animators, at prices starting north of £3,200. The company is also rolling out Frozen-branded "apples and grapes, juice, yoghurt, bandages and a complete oral-care line". Disney estimates that Frozen has brought in around £65m in retail revenue over the past year. The company's chief executive, Robert A Iger, told CNBC that he expected holiday sales to be "very, very hot".
The creators of Frozen, Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck, tell me that they set out to create characters young girls would recognise. "I love Cinderella," Lee says. "Am I anything like her? No. I grew up and became someone more independent." Elsa and Anna, she says, "are princesses because they've got the weight of a kingdom on their shoulders, not as the solution to a happy ending".The creators of Frozen, Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck, tell me that they set out to create characters young girls would recognise. "I love Cinderella," Lee says. "Am I anything like her? No. I grew up and became someone more independent." Elsa and Anna, she says, "are princesses because they've got the weight of a kingdom on their shoulders, not as the solution to a happy ending".
Lee and Buck realised they had succeeded, and then some, soon after the movie was released, when they went to see it like ordinary people. Lee found herself in a New York cinema where many audience members already knew the words. Then she started to hear people singing on the street. A year later, they haven't stopped. Does she ever get tired of hearing "Let it Go"? No. Not really. Not yet. "When I'm old, it will be the only thing left in my brain," she says.Lee and Buck realised they had succeeded, and then some, soon after the movie was released, when they went to see it like ordinary people. Lee found herself in a New York cinema where many audience members already knew the words. Then she started to hear people singing on the street. A year later, they haven't stopped. Does she ever get tired of hearing "Let it Go"? No. Not really. Not yet. "When I'm old, it will be the only thing left in my brain," she says.
Brands are said to be in decline. Studies show that customers are less loyal to companies, quicker to try something new. Products increasingly rise and fall on their own merits. "Brand names have become less important as proxies for quality," says Itamar Simonson, a professor at Stanford University. He argues that consumers now get better information about products from the internet. But Disney, perhaps more than any other large company, appears to be impervious to the trend. It helps that the company is not selling products based on the quality of craftsmanship but on the quality of its stories. Disney also specialises in selling affordable luxuries. An Elsa dress is considerably more expensive than an ordinary dress, like a cup of Starbucks coffee costs more than an ordinary cup of coffee. But it is not that expensive. Every item of the dozens of Frozen products at the Disney store costs less than £65. More important, though, to Disney's success is that many of its best customers are still learning how to read and don't care what things cost. It's not as if toddlers check out Amazon reviews.Brands are said to be in decline. Studies show that customers are less loyal to companies, quicker to try something new. Products increasingly rise and fall on their own merits. "Brand names have become less important as proxies for quality," says Itamar Simonson, a professor at Stanford University. He argues that consumers now get better information about products from the internet. But Disney, perhaps more than any other large company, appears to be impervious to the trend. It helps that the company is not selling products based on the quality of craftsmanship but on the quality of its stories. Disney also specialises in selling affordable luxuries. An Elsa dress is considerably more expensive than an ordinary dress, like a cup of Starbucks coffee costs more than an ordinary cup of coffee. But it is not that expensive. Every item of the dozens of Frozen products at the Disney store costs less than £65. More important, though, to Disney's success is that many of its best customers are still learning how to read and don't care what things cost. It's not as if toddlers check out Amazon reviews.
As a result, Disney is in the midst of a golden age of profitability. Disney characters have been endorsing products since 1929, when Walt Disney put Mickey Mouse on a writing tablet. But licensing, which began as a sideline, has become the main event. In most years, Disney makes more money from selling branded movie merchandise than from the actual movies. "We create products that extend the storytelling – the emotional connection that the consumer has when they're seeing the film carries on in the three-dimensional world," says Josh Silverman, the executive vice-president for global licensing. A recent favourite, he says, is the Olaf snow-cone maker. Modelled on the slapstick snowman who provides the comic relief in Frozen, it emits frosty treats from a somewhat disturbing hole in its belly.As a result, Disney is in the midst of a golden age of profitability. Disney characters have been endorsing products since 1929, when Walt Disney put Mickey Mouse on a writing tablet. But licensing, which began as a sideline, has become the main event. In most years, Disney makes more money from selling branded movie merchandise than from the actual movies. "We create products that extend the storytelling – the emotional connection that the consumer has when they're seeing the film carries on in the three-dimensional world," says Josh Silverman, the executive vice-president for global licensing. A recent favourite, he says, is the Olaf snow-cone maker. Modelled on the slapstick snowman who provides the comic relief in Frozen, it emits frosty treats from a somewhat disturbing hole in its belly.
The popularity of Frozen is also buoyed by the expanding toy market for girls. Princesses may seem like a permanent feature of the toyscape, but they were less common before the 1990s. "The idea that pink princess fantasy dream dolls have always been a part of girlhood is false," says Elizabeth Sweet, a lecturer at the University of California, Davis who studies the cultural history of toys. Dr Sweet has found that the popularity of gender-neutral toys reached a peak in the mid-1970s. Since then, toymakers have embraced the market-doubling effect of pushing certain toys to boys and other toys to girls. Dr Sweet says the level of gender segregation has never been higher. A typical big-box store might have four aisles of blue toys and four aisles of pink toys with an aisle of yellow toys in between. "Separate but equal," she says. Lego, for example, evolved from simple packs of building blocks into play sets mostly sold to boys, often with brand tie-ins. In 2012, the company introduced Lego Friends, which is basically Lego for girls.The popularity of Frozen is also buoyed by the expanding toy market for girls. Princesses may seem like a permanent feature of the toyscape, but they were less common before the 1990s. "The idea that pink princess fantasy dream dolls have always been a part of girlhood is false," says Elizabeth Sweet, a lecturer at the University of California, Davis who studies the cultural history of toys. Dr Sweet has found that the popularity of gender-neutral toys reached a peak in the mid-1970s. Since then, toymakers have embraced the market-doubling effect of pushing certain toys to boys and other toys to girls. Dr Sweet says the level of gender segregation has never been higher. A typical big-box store might have four aisles of blue toys and four aisles of pink toys with an aisle of yellow toys in between. "Separate but equal," she says. Lego, for example, evolved from simple packs of building blocks into play sets mostly sold to boys, often with brand tie-ins. In 2012, the company introduced Lego Friends, which is basically Lego for girls.
Disney really began to focus on princesses in 2000, after a new executive went to see a Disney on Ice show and was struck by how many of the girls in the audience were wearing home-made princess costumes. "They weren't even Disney products," the executive, Andy Mooney, told the writer Peggy Orenstein for her book about the rise of princesses, Cinderella Ate My Daughter. The Disney Princess line now makes about £2.5bn a year, on par with the earning power of Mickey Mouse himself. (The Frozen girls are not, as yet, official members of the Princess ensemble.)Disney really began to focus on princesses in 2000, after a new executive went to see a Disney on Ice show and was struck by how many of the girls in the audience were wearing home-made princess costumes. "They weren't even Disney products," the executive, Andy Mooney, told the writer Peggy Orenstein for her book about the rise of princesses, Cinderella Ate My Daughter. The Disney Princess line now makes about £2.5bn a year, on par with the earning power of Mickey Mouse himself. (The Frozen girls are not, as yet, official members of the Princess ensemble.)
This market has similarities with, of all things, the American pharmaceutical industry. Drugs are marketed to patients, who tend to trust brand names over generics, and are paid for by insurance companies under their contractual obligations. This has an inflationary effect on drug prices, leading to those eye-popping numbers that send uninsured Americans fleeing US pharmacies to try their luck in Tijuana. Similarly, toys and the like are marketed to children and purchased by parents. People who would never buy a £10 snow cone for themselves will buy one, gladly or grudgingly, for each of their children.This market has similarities with, of all things, the American pharmaceutical industry. Drugs are marketed to patients, who tend to trust brand names over generics, and are paid for by insurance companies under their contractual obligations. This has an inflationary effect on drug prices, leading to those eye-popping numbers that send uninsured Americans fleeing US pharmacies to try their luck in Tijuana. Similarly, toys and the like are marketed to children and purchased by parents. People who would never buy a £10 snow cone for themselves will buy one, gladly or grudgingly, for each of their children.
After all, who wants to say no to their princess?After all, who wants to say no to their princess?
©'The New York Times'©'The New York Times'
Debi, Fairy Godmother in Training, applies the finishing touches The princess diary: Jacqueline Fuller takes her daughter for an Elsa makeover
In the pre-dawn darkness, as the driver takes our luggage to the minicab outside our house, I crouch by my four-year-old to ask if she is looking forward to our holiday. I hope that Bay might be excited about the plane, the water slides or fossicking for shells, but her answer is: "Did you pack my Elsa and Anna pyjamas, Mamma?"
It wasn't ever thus. Before Frozen, my daughter only ever wore her elder brother's clothes, wouldn't brush her hair and went by the name she was christened with. Since being locked in the film's icy embrace, or "After Frozen", she has taken to gardening, eating dinner and walking the dog while wearing a ball gown, insisting on having her hair laboriously twisted into a braid "like the Snow Queen's" every day, and introduces herself as Elsa.
I never thought I would say this but my daughter is a little princess. Really. She has the certificate to prove it, handed over by her Fairy Godmother in Training at a ceremony recently. But more on that soon.
Bay goes about her ambassadorial role for the Kingdom of Arendelle with zeal. At the airport, a man opposite us in the gate lounge is reading a newspaper. "Look," Bay shouts, pointing. An article proclaims that there is to be a sequel: Frozen 2. She starts babbling and preaching evangelically. Behold, it is the Second Coming.
The official transformation into Her Royal Highness took place recently at Harrods. We were in the Disney section, where Bay had become attached to a Frozen-themed backpack, when a gadget we had been given earlier began to vibrate, flash and speak in the voice of Cinderella's Fairy Godmother: "It's time, dear. Now for the magic words." My daughter drops the backpack and skips to meet Debi, her own Fairy Godmother in Training, to join the Frozen Snow Queen Experience.
"Hello, and what are we doing today?" asks her FGIT at the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique. "Turning you into a frog?" Bay shakes her head. "A snake?" Another shake. "Well, what, then?" The response comes in an unladylike screech: "Queen Elsa!" Into the castle she bolts.
For the ensuing hour, Bay uses the words "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo" to speak to Cinderella's Fairy Godmother in a giant mirror, open palace doors that cheeky Tinkerbell locked, turn a smelly cheese sandwich into a gown, gloves and sparkly shoes, and a stinky pumpkin into a golden carriage, and make a tiara "fall from the sky". She then sits at a dressing table with her back to the mirror, surrounded by pink sofas, golden crowns, chandeliers, bluebirds, glitter and gemstones, as speakers pump out one Disney theme tune after another.
Then, a wand is waved over Bay's head, Debi says, "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo, may all your princess dreams come true," and spins her around for the big reveal. If the look on Bay's face is anything to go by, the magic has worked despite her wicked mother in the wings whispering incantations about physicists, pilots, plumbers and politicians, anything to aspire to other than princess. She takes an oath to "uphold the true meaning of being a princess", and is handed a bag full of dolls, an Olaf toy and make-up. Having convinced me to buy the backpack, she heads off looking like a sparkly blue tortoise.
Hours later, she is papped on the red carpet (actually blue) at the premiere of 'Frozen Sing-Along' at the Royal Albert Hall. She poses with reindeer and claps with delight as the "real Queen Elsa and Princess Anna" go up on stage.
As sparkly faux snow falls from the ceiling and the film unfolds, I begin to feel there is a good deal to be grateful to Frozen for. Humanity owes an incalculable debt to the designers of the animated costumes. The globe could have been trapped in an eternal pink tundra had they chosen a different palette. And thanks to the film, children everywhere have learnt: to scoff at the idea of love at first sight; that a princess doesn't have to move in with her one true love within 60 seconds of meeting him; that the handsome prince doesn't always get the girl; that princesses are quite capable of rescuing themselves and each other; and that marriage is not a prerequisite for a happy ending. Oh, and then there's that spectacular right jab.
With the film nearing an end, I tell Bay that we need to leave. She looks crestfallen but then barters: "Can we at least stay until Princess Anna punches Prince Hans in the face?" That's my girl, I say, before we run for the exit. Outside, we hurry through the puddles and drizzle along Kensington Road. "A bus?" Her Royal Highness asks, incredulously. "What about a taxi?" Good grief, I think, ushering her on to a No 9 bus back to reality. Or so I hope.
The conductor greets us with a wink: "Don't worry, we won't take off until the little princess is safely in her seat." Bay smiles graciously and arranges the cape of her dress around herself as she sits down. And, with that, her red double-decker chariot sweeps off.
Experiences at the Disney Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique at Harrods start from £50. The 'Frozen' Snow Queen package is £300; disneyboutiqueatharrods.com. 'Frozen' Sing-Along is on general release