Plastic round-up: Lakeland and cosmetic surgery

Alpha Mummy's Sarah writes in the Times today about working mums' fascination with the Lakeland catalog. I confess, I've loved Lakeland since I saw a friend's ice lolly holders (with built-in straws) several summers ago. Every time I pick up a catalogue I find myself seduced by things like towel grips, the Sink Bin (for soggy cereals and other things too wet for the bin, to thick for the drain) and the solar energy torch. It's because we crave perfection and the ability to stave off parenting chaos, Sarah says.

Certainly for me the Lakeland catalogue promises order, along with the corner plate rack. £8.99 for an oasis of calm at home? Who can resist?

Sarah also mentions a new American Book called My Beautiful Mommy, that helps parents explain to their 4- to 8-year olds why mommy is going into hospital to change her nose, get her thighs vacuumed and having huge jiggly balloons shoved under her skin to make her breasts bigger. But don't worry, darling, Mummy and Daddy love you just the way your are.

See excerpts from the book on Newsweek.

Comments

[Delilah]

Much more interesting to peruse the fascinating magazine produced by American Board Certified plastic surgeons:
www.skindeepworld.com
There's a feature on Mommy Makeovers in Issue 3, which can be read online. The article "I was a Playboy Bunny in the '60's" is a bit of a tease, though.

[Lazy Mummy]

Can't comment on the Lakeland catalogue and the Newsweek clips from this plastic surgeon's book were loading too slowly for impatient me, but Ariel Leve's column about it in the Sunday Times was hilarious: http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/ariel_leve/article3778712.ece

[Sho]

I love the Lakeland catalogue (and the hobby one) and spend a happy hour or so when I visit my family in the UK looking at it and sighing, wistfully, when I recount the dearth of Banana holders in Germany.

My daughters know that I go to the gym to keep my heart healthy and to keep in shape (the wobbly shape they love so much, apparently). Telling them about cosmetic surgery would have a detrimental effect on my desire that they have healthy hearts, I think. So we'll be steering clear of books like that.

[mumoftwo]

Yes, J, I think it is the everydayness of it, coupled with lots of interesting new things that mean that catalogues are fascinating at a certain age. A lot of children's books are wonderful and fantastical (like the Gruffalo) and take children to amazing new worlds full of witches and monsters, but it's nice to have some day-to-day stuff in there as well (although some might argue Argos is a shiny magical kingdom where, for £99.99 you can indeed have a monstrous new wardrobe, though sadly it leads no-where...) On that note, does anyone else have the 'Thomas' books (can't remember the author, they are translated) with a little boy doing things like making a playhouse, going to his granny's house and getting wet in the sea, baking a cake. I had them as a child, and my two love them I'm sure because they just reflect back their own experiences, but in a very simple way (no over-bearing 'concept' like many of the children's books I read to them).

As for the Mummy and her new Tummy book, can't be bothered to get het up about such a ridiculous piece of self-promotion. The only thing I would say is that I don't believe in telling children everything, I certainly didn't go into detail when I went in for surgery (not plastic, sadly I came out with the same wobby stomach as when I went in).

[J]

Mo2 we also used it for speech therapy and it is good for any late talker. You can make a scrapbook of everyday things like pictures of people going to bed or playing with water and then get the child to talk about it.

[mumoftwo]

When my daughter was three, she went through a phase of asking for the Argos catalogue as her bedtime story. She mainly liked the toys section, but also jewellery, and with every page, she used to point to items, saying 'that one is for me and that one is for my sister', I would say 'ummm' (which means not a hope in hell, but I don't fancy any confrontation before bed) and then we'd turn to the next page. She was so insistent that she loved reading it, I just went with it until she reverted back to the Gruffalo...plus catalogues are great for cutting and sticking (hours of fun on a wet Sunday afternoon and you can wash the glue out of their hair on Sunday night!)

[Gipsy]

ah brilliant use for the plastic clip J!

Glad I'm not the only brain-dead housewife around here (although can you be a housewife if you're a WM? And where did the word housewife come from anyway - married to a house? How odd).

I keep a stack of catalogues in the loo (as now it is the only reading time I get apart from on the tube and train. I particularly love putting imaginary rooms together with the Ikea Catalogue, and blowing loads of imaginary money with the Snow and Ski catalogue. I also find the Argos catalogue totally engrossing (who knew there were so many ways to make use of a utility room type of space? or tidy up your garden?). None of which I will ever ever use or buy.

But then I also love the white goods section in department stores. I could spend hours examining the insides of fridges or the different features of washing machines.

[Melissaria]

Urgh. The Lakeland catalogue. I swear that company has spent more money sending that out to me that I have ever spent with them. It's just full of rubbish for people who have run out of more worthwhile things to do with their money. It normally entertains me for (sorry to be crude) one good visit to the loo and that's about it. It's only beaten in 'stuff for brain dead housewives to buy to fill a void' by Scott's of Stow.

And that book is tragic on so many levels, I don't even know where to begin. Perhaps with a nice new kiddies' picture book of my own called 'Watch Out, Self-Esteem Destroyers About'. Sad, sad, sad.

[J]

I love all catalogues too, and I read the clothes ones in the same way- buy this skirt and you will be a size 8 with long legs, buy this set of plastic bags and your fridge will never again be empty.

Though I do love their plastic clips for holding bags together. Best use: you know how once children are too big for bibs, an adult apron hangs far too low down their fronts, cos the neck strings are too long? you can pull the string up behind their neck and clip it with a lakeland bag clip, and the apron fits...

[Gipsy]

I love all catalogues like Lakeland. I think they're my equivalent of self help books - maybe if I had the cupboard tidy, magnetic utensil holder, steam mop and plastic bag clips the rest of my life would also fall into order as well.

The surgery book - I don't think it is an 'american' book per se, rather just a book published by a plastic surgery practice (I think I read it was in Florida?). Saw an article about this on the weekend and didn't really bother to read it once I saw that it was just marketing really. I'm just hoping it backfires on the surgeon concerned but otherwise don't see it as an indicator of anything else.

[mmmm]

I adore Lakeland and when I get married it's going to be the basis for my present list. I went on a walking holiday in the Lake District recently and the absolute highlight was visiting the huge Lakeland store just outside Windemere.

But it is an odd mix of stuff. Some of it is genuniely useful and/or classy, some of it really tacky. But most of it is indeed in the you never knew you needed it till now category. My all-time favourite is the free-standing bean slicer. As if all these years I've been manacled to a fixed been slicer, and now I'm free!

The mixture of eco-friendly stuff and please buy as much crap as you can never mind the earth's resources is equally peculiar, but that was ever the way with any business wanting to make money.

If you really want to waste some serious time, go for the separate craft catalogue. Me and my friends have spent many happy hours fantasising about the cottage industries we might start involving, glitter, glue, card etc.

Re. the surgery book, I think J is absolutely right. Give the kids a copy of Naomi Wolf any day.

[J]

Having had a quick look I think this doctor may be about to blow his whole business.

Any women going through this inane book and trying to say the suggested lines with a straight face (mummy's like a chrysalis you see and... aarghh!) will probably end by thinking- actually, trying to explain this to my child without sounding completely loopy makes me realise what a stupid idea it is in the first place.