Every little girl should have the pleasure of owning a doll house. That doll house should have tiny furniture in it. I’m not sure where my doll house came from when I was growing up. I think someone made it and gave it to my parents.
It was a really cool house. It stood at least five feet tall. I remember when I could finally reach the two rooms in the attic. The rooms were large enough to comfortably house my Barbies. Through the years I accumulated Barbie doll furniture and accessories and some stuff that just worked well for my dolls. My mom let me use the kitchen she played with as a little girl. It fit perfectly. I loved how the oven and fridge actually opened. There was a window painted over the sink with a permanent view of a sunny yard. We glued a phone to the wall and everything.
The garage was next to the kitchen on the bottom floor. I loved how the wallpaper looked like bricks! Above the kitchen was the living room and dining room. My parents helped me carpet and wallpaper the living room with remnants from our home remodeling projects. That was the only room I updated. The rest of the carpet and wallpaper in the doll house was perfect. Actually, the two bedrooms had shaggy fake fur carpeting. One room was white and the other was a shiny baby blue that looked like taffy being pulled. I just never replaced it.
There were two bedrooms on the third floor on either side of the bathroom. Then two rooms in the attic, triangle shaped from the pitched roof. One year for my birthday or Christmas I got Barbie bathroom furniture. A big toilet that actually flushed if you filled it with water. The bathtub also drained. After a year or so I stopped filling stuff with real water. It was too much of a hassle to deal with in an unfinished basement that happened to be the only space big enough for my cool Barbie house.
My only problem with the bathroom furnishings was it was all pink. Cotton candy pink with banana yellow accents. I always wanted to paint it. Barbie had a lot going for her but an eye for color was not one of them! Her monochromatic color scheme got on my nerves. Hot pink scooter (that was the birthday I caught my hair on fire blowing out the candles!), pink bathroom, pink Corvette, and now a pink camper. Come on Barbie! Pick another color. At least my Barbies drove a yellow Corvette and a cherry red Corvette stingray. Plus they had two yellow and black Bronco jeep looking vehicles that I really liked because Barbie’s head wasn’t sticking up through the T top roof.
That was a sweet doll house. I remember innumerable hours playing with that doll house. A couple years ago our neighbors gave us a dollhouse our next door neighbor had built for their daughters when they were little. I was ecstatic. The furniture was old and brittle so I tossed it. Gwen was obviously too young for the doll house when she first got it. I think she was maybe 18 months old or so. She has slowly grown into doll house maturity. This is why I wanted to get her some cool furniture for the house.
Enter Amazon. I found a great deal on doll house furniture. Something like 40 pieces for 10 bucks. The description did say it was a wooden puzzle. A reviewer said they liked the product and when they glued the puzzle pieces together the pieces were very sturdy. Even though it was suggested for ages 6 and up I figured I could do the assembly for Gwen. She could pick colors and I could paint. Maybe I could even make some cute little blankets and cushions with my new sewing machine! My plans came a mile a minute.
When it arrived I was a little skeptical. It was four different boards that I was supposed to punch the pieces out of. The description did say there were instructions included. So I wrapped it and forgot my worries. Gwen opened it Christmas morning and I was back to very skeptical. She couldn’t wait for me to start putting the furniture together. I kept blowing her off.
Finally I decided I should just do it. How hard could it be? It looked a lot like a 3-D puzzle we picked up from the craft store. That puzzle has sat around in a plastic bag gathering dust because it is impossible to figure out how to put together. The “instructions” consist of a tiny diagram with illegible numbers on every piece. The whole drawing is so small you can’t see the shape of the pieces nor the numbers each piece was assigned. So in a bag on a shelf it sits.
I broke every other doll house piece I tried to punch out. No worries. I was planning on gluing the joints anyway for the stellar stability promised on Amazon’s website. Some pieces came out with long jagged excess wood. That’s ok because there was supposed to be a piece of sandpaper included. Only I could never find it. I’m not sure it was included in mine.
Gwen hovered over me practically sitting in my lap till I was ready to scream! Luckily it was time to send the kids to bed. Only the kids weren’t the problem. It was the crappy product.
The cover makes it look so cute and quaint and so doable.
The “instructions” leave a lot to be desired. (click to enlarge photo)
I had balsa wood shrapnel all over my lap. I can still feel splinters digging into my inner thighs every so often. After an hour of frustration I had barely a handful of precariously jerry rigged furniture and zippo desire to continue the project.
Only I didn’t put it away when I gave up in exasperation. So this is what I saw today. Gwen still thinks the furniture is a go. I’m ready to toss it all and try again. The other problem with what I painstakingly put together is that it’s teeny tiny. I did open by saying that every girl should have tiny doll house furniture. This is taking that sentiment to a new extreme. Here’s some furniture for your Squinkies, Gwen! Anything else would be too big and too heavy for the lighter than air “wood.”
It’s absolutely impractical. Who was this stuff designed for? This is not a toy. It’s certainly not a puzzle either. I’m sorry but cleverly disguising “adult assembly required” as a puzzle an older child can put together is just stupid.
I can imagine what happened. Someone had this great idea but as the cost of materials increased and projected profits decreased they significantly decreased the overall product size. Nobody would ever notice if they printed in plain sight that the furniture is in 1/24 scale. One twenty fourth of what? Normal human furniture? The smallest doll house furniture ever made? It doesn’t matter. It’s honest and obscure.
They went for cheaper and cheaper materials until they settled on balsa wood. Which is slightly thicker than paper and much more fragile. Then the machine made all the scored cuts. When the mastermind behind this moronic idea started to piece together the first sheet he/she/it realized not every piece was scored enough. They also realized it’s a racking fracking pain in the butt to assemble it for the consumer. That’s ok! Just make the consumer put it together and market it as a selling point!
Have you ever been duped by the ad wizards? At least it was only $10. No, I would not recommend this to a friend, much less an enemy.
