Super Mario - Jeff Ryan [62]
Once out of the scald-resistant shower, dry off with a Mario towel, and put on Mario-branded sunglasses, belt buckles, ties, suspenders, slippers, Nike sneakers, T-shirts, jackets, sweatshirts, sweatpants, underwear, Halloween costumes. Hungry? Chow down on some fruit snacks, lemonade, energy drinks, candy bars, cereal, candy, lollipops, ice cream bars, or ice cream sandwiches. Carry around your stuff with Mario-quality folders, fanny packs, suitcases, backpacks, or glasses cases. What stuff? Why, cups, egg cups, cup dispensers, pens, Pez dispensers, cookie jars, cookie cutters, place mats, scratch-off cards, wallpaper, stickers, stamps, 110 film cameras, light fixtures, pins, golf balls, curtains, computer mouses, mouse pads, trophies, phones, remote-controlled car phones, music boxes, sleeping bags, temporary tattoos, wallets, phone cards, umbrellas, trash cans, Viewmasters, finger puppets, balls, flash drives, banks, greeting cards, coloring books, storybooks, holograms, and calendars.
For Mario fans not old enough to drive, how about remote-controlled cars and helicopters? Or Mario fuzzy dice, windshield screen, floor mats, car deodorizers, antenna toppers, and car seat covers? There are almost a hundred different types of Mario-branded key chains alone.
Who decided to green-light a Mario ceiling fan? To go with the Mario ceiling fan pull? A Mario Orbits Cube? Speakers? Tissue box? Bandages? Computer cover? Debit card? Dry erase board? Was there a decision to have every single purchasable item have a Mario version of it? Or even make up new items, like a piece of jewelry called a “bow biter” that lets Mario and Luigi hang from your shoelaces? Or a Super Mario cross-stitch? Or a $6,999 (insured for eleven thousand dollarsplus) solid-gold Mario pendant, with diamonds in red, blue, white, and black? (The same people make a Bart Simpson pendant, thanks to yellow diamonds.) At least there was history with, say, a Mario-brand set of hanafuda cards.
As new collectible trends arose—Beanie Babies, pogs, lunch boxes, figurines, plush chairs, trading cards, Christmas ornaments, stress relievers, K’Nex, Dots (a Japanese fad that mixed Lite Brites with Lego blocks), or Byggis (a Swedish Lego knockoff), Mario was there. Things that aren’t even designed as collectibles have a market among this Mario mania. The neon signs saying “Nintendo AUTHORIZED REPAIR CENTER” showing Mario gamely holding a flathead screwdriver, for instance, fetch four hundred dollars. Arcade games sell for reasonable rates, considering they’re twenty-five-year-old computers that weigh as much as a safe.
Nintendo must have, at some point, said no to a Mario marketing opportunity it deemed contrary to the character’s youth appeal. There are Mario lighters. There are Mario slot machines, albeit ones that use play money. Moving onto the unlicensed (and illegal), Finnish police have confiscated tabs of acid with Mario’s face on them. In the nearby University of Copenhagen they sometimes serve Mario-themed shots: the Super Mario is equal amounts of grenadine, Blue Bols, and tequila silver, and a 1-Up (whipped cream, green frosting, milk, vodka, and Melon Bols) looks disturbingly like the green-and-white mushroom.
Long years of lucrative evidence have proven to Nintendo that licensing is a double-plus-good endeavor—people pay the company to advertise Mario! For a character that doesn’t exist outside of commercials, the more exposure the better. This was why Nintendo traded up its advertising firms in 1990, going from McCann-Erickson and Foot, Cone & Belding to the giant Leo Burnett. One of Burnett’s first ads, for Super Mario Bros. 3, didn’t feature anything as pedestrian as game play, but instead millions of cheering Mario fans, ending with a satellite view