GOING PLACES: Forget Barbie and Bratz. Róisín Ingle flies with her niece to Chicago and finds a tourist attraction that has turned the Windy City into heaven for little girls
I just flew in from the Windy City, and as it turns out, that Calamity character was dead right. As American cities go, Chicago is mighty pretty. Not only that, but entertaining a young person in the Illinois capital is child's play, thanks, among other things, to the city's most famous daughter. (Clue: It's not Gloria Swanson). The city is the birthplace of the American Girl doll phenomenon, so it was inevitable that the massive flagship store off Michigan Avenue would become a constant reference point over the weekend for myself, my eight-year-old niece, Bláithín, and her doll Megan.
Created 20 years ago by a local publisher of educational materials, Pleasant T. Rowland, American Girl was initially designed to "educate and entertain" young girls, while "emphasising important traditional values". Crucially for Rowland, and toy giant Mattel which took over the company seven years ago, one of those "important traditional values" appears to be shopping. The American Girl place is stuffed with little misses making tough decisions between buying her doll a backpack or a violin, a ski outfit or a Halloween costume. The marketing geniuses behind the company also sell the dolls' clothes in children's sizes, so visitors are treated to the surreal sight of little girls and their mini-mes swanning around this predominantly pink, pre-teen variation on the mall.
As a doll, American Girl is head and shoulders above the likes of Barbie and Bratz. For a start, at 18 inches tall she is a proper doll size. Her eyes open and close, depending on whether she is lying down or standing. And best of all, she comes in a dizzying variety of skin, hair and eye colours. As if that wasn't politically correct enough, there are even models which come in a wheelchair, a steady seller in the home town of the Special Olympics.
The original American Girl dolls are based on fictional characters from different historical periods and come accompanied by a book. Initially they were sold only through catalogues, and more recently over the Internet, making them one of the most successful mail-order products in the US. The American Girl Place in Chicago opened when Mattel took over the brand, and while educational books form a significant part of the merchandise, it's mostly about the dolls. You can expect to part with around $100 for the likes of Megan.
Bláithín's doll came with a trendy jacket and jeans ensemble and a handbag that contained tiny dollars. Megan has a dog called Coconut and a matching dressing gown, hairband and slippers. She has braces to wear in bed at night and her own little magazine to read.
To understand fully how all-pervasive the American Girl doll phenomenon is in the US, and especially in her hometown of Chicago, you need to check into one of the city's hotels which offer special rates to visitors going to the American Girl Place. A couple of months ago, Dubliner John Fitzpatrick, of Fitzpatrick's Hotel in the city, introduced the American Girl package. "We've been amazed at the amount of mothers and daughters and their dolls taking it up," he says.
When you bring your little girl and her doll to the hotel, not only do you have to check in, so does the visiting doll. In the hotel room, you'll find a small bed complete with doll-sized duvet and sheets for her to sleep in, and her own dressing gown and slippers. The evening turn-down service extends to the doll's bedding. (We tested this by not making Megan's bed one morning and it was suitably pristine on our return).
Lunch in the American Girl café with its pink candy stripe walls and scarily cheery - even by US standards - waiting staff, was a slightly less thrilling experience. But then you're not really there for the food. As you'd expect, a place is set at the table for the doll and we spent most of the meal eavesdropping on a 20-strong group of girls (40 including their dolls) celebrating a birthday. Afterwards, we caught the American Girl theatre show downstairs, where we learnt moral friendship lessons so saccharine that lunch threatened to make an unscheduled reappearance. But once again, the niece loved it. Even the part where the audience had to stand up and sing Circle of Friends while holding hands. The shame.
The weekend in Chicago wasn't all doll-oriented, although Megan did insist on coming with us everywhere. On Saturday night we went for dinner in Ed Debevics diner, where the fun starts from the minute your name is called by the mouthy receptionist. The waiters, all kooky characters dressed in 1950s and 1960s garb, hurl good-natured abuse at you throughout the meal. The rock and roll music is loud, the food is standard diner fare, and every hour the waiters get up on the counter and do a dance.
On a sunny Chicago day, the best place to go is Navy Pier on Lake Michigan, just east of downtown. We had a windy picnic on the pier before spending a couple of happy hours in the Children's Museum. The rest of our short time in Chicago was spent browsing in the city's bookstores and making crucial decisions in the American Girl Place. The pink dress or the cowboy outfit? A jumper for Coconut or a pair of pyjamas for Megan? We'd still be there now if we didn't have a flight to catch. What a town. What a doll.