I can remain silent no longer. At first, I was going to whine about how incredibly stupid The Witching Hour by Anne Rice was. And I still will, later. However, there is a far greater evil that has commanded my attention like a dull, throbbing cavity…Bratz! These things (dolls, books, cartoons) are so offensively stupid that merely being aware of their existence causes me extreme mental angish. I was blissfully unaware of the entire Bratz epidemic until, while working for Target, a box of them appeared and I was “challenged” (no one tells you to do something at Target…they “challenge” you to do it…thus giving you a sense of empowerment over destiny) to make a display of them. At first, I had no idea what they were. I had to ask a co-worker. “What is this?” I said. “It’s a doll,” they said. “A what?” I asked. “A doll,” they said.
If you’ve ever seen one of those adult novelty inflatable women, then you have an idea as to what the Bratz dolls look like.
There are three generations of Bratz, including Bratz Babyz, Lil’ Bratz, the Bratz themselves (apparently, middle school aged, I can find no source that says exactly how old they are supposed to be), and, of course, the Bratz Boyz. The Bratz, regardless of age or gender, are bound by a single all-consuming passion: “The passion for fashion!”
“Fashion,” in the land of the Bratz, means, “dressing up to look like a hooker.” There are some dolls with miniskirts so short they end above the doll’s panties. One outfit for the Bratz Babyz includes a studded leather belt, miniskirt, and what appear to be fishnet stockings. Do these girls look like they belong in Math Class or on a street corner?
Apparently, the "Bratz Pack" is a group of 10 ethnically diverse girls, all of whom are the same height and weight, and all with lips so huge they consume a full 30% of each girl’s face. This may explain why none of them have a nose. Two of them, “Phoebe” and “Roxxi” are twins. Yes, her name is “Roxxi,” and no, she’s not a porno actress…yet. All of the Bratz have “stylin’” nicknames that reflect their individual personalities. This is how they introduce themselves on their website, www.bratzpack.com:
“Hi, I’m Cloe and I rock! My friends call me ‘Angel’ because that’s what I am!”
Dana is called “’Sugar Shoes,’ because when I step out I do it sweet!”
Jade says, “My friends call me ‘Kool Kat,’ because I love cats! And I’m cool!”
Sasha is called “’Bunny Boo,’ because I love the hip-hop thang!”
Yasmin’s friends call her “’Pretty Princess,’ because I rule!”
Fianna, perplexingly, is called “’Fragance,’ because I’m as sweet as I smell!” (No, that’s not a typo…it’s F-r-a-g-a-n-c-e.)
Nevra, of course, is “’Queen B,’ because I’m sweet like honey and in charge!”
Meygan is the “’Funky Fashion Monkey,’ because even when I just hang, I still look good!” (Hang from what? A gallows? )
Phoebe’s twin “calls me ‘Sugar,’ because I’m as sweet as sweet can be!”
Roxxi’s twin “calls me ‘Spice,’ because I like to spice it up!”
And there you have them. Each as individual and complex as a snowflake, huh? The group seems rife with intrigue and conflict if you ask me. After all, how can Yasmin “rule” when it’s Nevra who’s “in charge?” And who’s sweeter; Fianna, Phoebe, or Nevra? Is Nevra power-hungry? How, exactly, does Phoebe “rock,” and what is Roxxi “spicing” up? And then of course, there are the Bratz Boyz, of which there are only five. Competition for these boys (sorry, Boyz) must be pretty stiff, even if they only real differences between the Bratz Boyz and the Bratz themselves are hairstyles and little plastic abdominal muscles. Just who are these Boyz and what are they like, you wonder? Well, wonder no more.
First we have Cade. Bratz call him “The Viper” because he’s “sly.”
“W’sup? My name is Cameron. The Bratz call me ‘The Blaze’ because I’m hot!”
Eitan is called “The Dragon,” because he’s a “nonstop hotshot!”
Dylan is called “The Fox” because he’s “slick.”
Koby, or “The Panther,” is “always on the prowl.”
Personally, I would have thought “The Fox” would have been “sly” and “The Viper” would have been “slick," but then I guess that would make too much sense. And, by the way, if you look anything like these Boyz, you won't be called "The Blaze" as much as you'll be called "The Flamer." Besides being "hot" and prowly, the Boyz serve to worship the Bratz, take them on "slammin'" dates, and to tell them how pretty and well-accessorized they are.
As you can well imagine, the adventures that befall this group is quite extraordinary. They go to the mall. They go shopping. They dress up. They apply make-up. They're into fashion design, modeling, and being rock stars (of course). They hang out at places like the "Bratz Formal Funk Super Stylin' Runway Disco," the "Bratz Tokyo-A-Go Go! Sushi Lounge with Karaoke Stage and Mic Stand" or the "Bratz Stylin Salon N' Spa: Smoothie Cafe."
Barbie may have been vapid and blonde, but at least she had a job at McDonald's and went camping occasionally. The Bratz spend all their time dressing up to go to the mall to buy new outfits so they can come home and dress up. Don't belive me? Just peruse these fabulous Bratz book titles with me:
All Night Mall Party
Bratz Stylin' Slumber Party
Fashion Funk
Holiday Shoppin' Spree
Bratz Strut It!
The plots are all pretty much the same, and go along the lines of:
Lil Bratz Makin It Up! (Ages 3 and up; $12.99) is much more than just a book. It is a day in the life of the Bratz prior to their going to a movie. Of course, since the Bratz are known for being stylish wherever they go, they must first get decked out and made up. The book comes with four of the same shades of lipstick that the Bratz wear in the book!
Amazon.com will let you preview the first few pages of these books, where you'll find such memorable lines as:
"I'd never draw Jade without her slammin' jewels," Cloe agreed.
She lifted the napkin with her perfectly-manicured nails.
"I've a much better pose you can use," she said as she flipped back her jet-black straight hair and flashed a huge smile. She looked just like a model on the cover of a magazine. Koby obediently snapped another picture.
Jade leaned back triumphnatly in her seat, took a long sip of her strawberry-banana smoothie, and checked out the action going on around her in the food court.
There was Cloe, her long blonde hair pulled back to reveal her big blue eyes opened wide in suprise. "It really is a good picture of you," Cam assured Cloe.
"After you, Bunny-Boo," Cloe told her hip-hop lovin' pal.
"Jade's hair is awesome. And so is her look." She pointed to Jade's funky embroidered jeans and far-out silver glitter platform boots.
Wanna retch yet? Lord knows I do. Is it any wonder children are growing up faster and dumber? In the end, of course, it's the parent's fault, because they're the ones spending their money to rot their children's brains. For shame! They should be burned like witches! IT'S ALL SO STUPID!!! ARRRGHHHHH!!
And now, I'm off to my "Scorchin' Kitchen" for a "slammin' sandwich." Have a "stylin'" day! 
