You *may* get some intriguing post tomorrow. It is a creative response to your most recent, most uncreative latest advert. Yep, the one in which the superhero lad plots to save the day while the young girl busies herself prettifying her pink bedroom and re-arranging her dolls.
Yes, THAT one, with the gender stereotypes that belong to the era of your inception, 1932. Welcome, friends, to 2013 – here you will find that most parents HATE these limiting roles.
Here, not all little girls are doll-obsessed, and some of them want to grow up to change the world too. Pink is a colour that belongs to all children, and not every little boy wants to climb and fight.
When I see adverts like yours I despair. How is it possible this kind of repressed perspective is still out there? Let alone boldly stalking amongst us promoting Flakey Morsels of the Dawn to young children.
When I feel this gutted about the state of the world I have to act. I firstly tweeted, then I sent you an email. But all afternoon I have been feeling the need to do something more, to really try and make you see how sickening this stereotyping is.
So I popped a little something in the post for you.
I am not sure how my protest- post will go down. For the ten minutes I spent writing the letter and packaging her up I thought it was a bit funny and clever, that postpeople along the way might think “Oooh, what sexist antics have Weetabix been up to?” I hoped it might just grab your attention and prompt a response from you.
And then, I have to admit, as soon as I saw her feet disappear into the mouth of the letterbox I suddenly wondered if you might think it sent by a Barbie-maiming psycho- that it might even contain Anthrax. (It doesn’t, promise.)
I’m not a Barbie-maiming psycho, just an irate mum who is utterly sick and tired of having her young daughter put in these boxes by big companies. With the huge amounts of money you throw into marketing, you are EXTREMELY influential in how our children define themselves.
I may do all I can to help Ramona celebrate all colours, to find joy in millions of kinds of toys, but if she is bombarded every day by images that tell her girls should like one thing and boys another, my own nurturing counts for little.
We are massive fans of Weetabix in this household (only in non-porridge season, OBVIOUSLY!) but until this ad is placed on the Shameful Shelf of Relics where it belongs we will not be buying your slightly-tasteless-but-still-somehow-delectable breakfast.
I look forward to your response.
Lucy, and Ramona, and also every cereal-munching child in the world who deserves better.
PS- If any readers want to contact Weetabix and share their own disappointment you can do that here.
PPS I’d hate for you to miss a post… enter your email to get them pinged into your inbox. I won’t be spamalot, promise!