LEGO is increasingly mutating into a lifestyle brand and is making a fool of itself with unnecessary collaborations. Nintendo, Levi's and now Adidas are the latest partners. The main target group is affluent parents.
It has long been proven that things were by no means better in the past. But the myth persists and is becoming increasingly bizarre. Take LEGO, for example.
Why I no longer wear nappies thanks to LEGO
Burnt in for life
Mum the wallet on Dad!
No, not everything was better in the past. LEGO, Levi's jackets and Adidas trainers at least still had charm back then.
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When I flew the family nest over 15 years ago, I suddenly had to cook for myself. But it wasn’t long until this necessity became a virtue. Today, rattling those pots and pans is a fundamental part of my life. I’m a true foodie and devour everything from junk food to star-awarded cuisine. Literally. I eat way too fast.
Opinion
This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.
The smell of grandma's food. Turning into the street where you grew up. The song that was playing when you had your first kiss. In uncertain times, memories of your childhood give you stability. They are an anchor in the storm of your adult life. It's what we live on as humans and it's how many companies make their money. Why else do resourceful trendsetters conjure up some kind of revival at regular intervals? Sometimes it's the 90s, sometimes rockabilly. Retro, vintage or cottagecore: whatever this trend is called, it's supposed to create a "everything used to be better" mood. This ranges from the right-wing conservative longing for life in the mountains and the accompanying soundtrack by Gölä, Andreas Gaballier and co. to the deep-left homage to icons such as Che Guevara or Frida Kahlo. What exactly was better about toiling all day on an alpine pasture to eat flour cakes fried in fat or fighting for freedom in the humid jungle, bitten by mosquitoes, someone has yet to explain to me.
Almost everyone has a story about LEGO. For example, I wore nappies until I was a respectable four years old. It was only the promise of an electric LEGO railway that persuaded me to reliably relieve myself on the porcelain throne. LEGO was my first investment. My first saved hundred-franc note went into a pirate ship in 1993. I clearly remember the pain of standing barefoot on a four-legged toy that had been forgotten in the grey fitted carpet while tidying up. I will forever associate LEGO with such childhood anecdotes. They are personal experiences, built on a foundation of coloured bricks.
It's not just LEGO and my full nappies. Just as memorable is the Turtles game on the NES, which we borrowed from a mate for a storm-free weekend. That was a two-kilometre bike ride to the nearby village. I was probably wearing my Levi's denim jacket for the road trip, which I had customised with all kinds of patches. In addition to "Def Leppard" and "AC / DC", there was also a patch from the NASA mission "STS-61", in which Claude Nicollier was launched into space to the Hubble telescope. I got a slap in the face from an older boy because it wasn't cool enough for the gang. But I was already a nerd back then.
Not only the memories have remained, but also the brands. LEGO, Nintendo, Levi's: they have been burnt into my brain to stay there forever. In English, this is symbolically called "branding". The term "brand" comes from the brands that were burnt into cattle to mark their ownership. These memories are obviously no longer enough for brands today. They have to sell more and more goods to their customers and want to get stuck in our heads even more. The solution is called "cross-marketing". H&M and well-known fashion designers are working together. Ikea joins forces with well-known design studios. Or something a little more abstruse: the collaboration between the luxury brand Burberry and the chat app Line, which is popular in Asia. Fashion-conscious Line users can send avatars clad in Burberry. The collaboration is usually emphasised with an X between the brand names. H&M X Lagerfeld, Ikea X Off-White, Line X Burberry. So far, so "up my arse". For some time now, however, LEGO has been stretching the cross-branding arc enormously.
What began with meaningful partnerships such as "Batman" or "Star Wars" is trumped almost monthly by new, increasingly unnecessary marketing campaigns. Combining LEGO and Super Mario was an obvious choice. But why throw a useless dust collector on the market in the form of a LEGO NES? This was followed at short intervals by the "Levi's X LEGO" jeans line for children and finally the "LEGO X Adidas" shoe. The branded, golden calf is being cannibalised.
The target group is no longer the children, but the affluent parents. That was already the case when I squeezed my bum to get the LEGO train. "LEGO X Pampers" as the first cross-branding, so to speak. Today I'm the same age as my parents. LEGO knows this and deliberately targets my weak spot. Fortunately, I don't have any children. If I had any, my child would of course have to have the iconic "LEGO X Levi's" denim jacket, even though denim jackets are out of fashion and my child doesn't like LEGO at all. I create my walking mannequin of memories, which is a support for me in difficult times. Dad buys himself the iconic LEGO NES, mum gets the "LEGO X Adidas" sneakers. If it says LEGO on it, it's sold out in no time. Especially when - fully retro! - Nintendo, Levi's or Adidas are involved. We forget that we look as shitty as my nappies did when I was four because of all the nostalgia.
