Dumb, dumber, dumplings
Squishy Dumplings have been the bane of our lives this summer. What started out as a TikTok trend has turned into a genuine danger lurking at every store checkout. It’s time to take a stand before any other kids get their hands on this plastic tat.
«Squishy Dumpling!» my son shouts, palpating my left upper arm vigorously with his fingers. His sister laughs, grabbing my right arm and joining in. Having my ageing, fatherly skin treated like a dumpling dough substitute? Just my kind of jape. Plus, it’s much more environmentally friendly than the product that inspired these shenanigans in the first place.
With Squishy Dumplings hovering like a swarm of jellyfish in practically every store, moments like these have been a recurring feature of our summer holidays. I hadn’t heard of them until recently, as I’m utterly clueless when it comes to social media-inspired fads. Now, this particular online trend has become a problem for me. One I’m no longer able to swerve in my offline life. And one that’s been gnawing away at me.
Source: Shutterstock/Olena_Sl
The maddening urge to collect
I’m now aware that these highly sought-after toys are usually sold as «mystery dumplings» in opaque packaging, hidden inside plastic steaming baskets. This tracks with the «quantity over quality» approach that characterises this day and age. It maximises profit; if customers don’t know exactly what they’re getting, the possibility of making an unboxing video for social media stretches out the fun longer than the stretching capabilities of the rubbery toy itself.
Will the Squishy Dumpling be green, pink or blue? Might it even be sparkly? OMG! It lights up! Life is officially complete. That’s how content creators typically approach their unboxings – all in a tone of voice that makes me want to shove the dumplings into my earholes. Unfortunately, the hype is real. Finally landing on a toy in the look you’re after can take serious time – and money. Bloody mystery dumplings.
The other mystery, unfortunately, is the contents of these cheap, batch-produced toys draining your kids’ pocket money. Although the thermoplastic rubber and silicone make the wobbly dumplings pliable, the trouble with these materials is that they’re non-recyclable composites. In other words, they end up in the environment as microplastics.
Squishy Dumplings don’t bring anything to the proverbial – or literal – table. They’re just «fast plastics» used to make a few bucks. Oil is pumped out of the ground so that factories – many of whom might be guilty of wage dumping (or should I say wage dumpling?!) – can churn out millions of pieces of pointless plastic food in little baskets.
The dumplings turn brittle, develop tears or get so covered in lint that you end up throwing them away before they’ve reached the end of their squidgy lives. Before you reel off that comment, yes, Galaxus sells these dumplings too. Just like so many other debate-sparking products. And like almost everything that’s fashionable right now. Still, I won’t be linking to our selection here.
The reviews prove me right
I like the fact that genuine reviews from real customers serve as a warning to anyone who naively stumbles across the product page. Some people have taken the time to put their dumpling experiences into words.
Here’s a selection of them:
- «Really unpleasant petrol smell»
- «Burst after just a few hours»
- «Disappointing – threw it out right away»
- «Stinks something awful»
- «Leaks fluid»
Even the «best» product has only been rated three and a half stars, and virtually all the detailed reviews are negative. Although the toy is CE-compliant and meets all EU regulations, reviews like this don’t exactly whet your appetite for more.
Rather than the mouthwatering scent of fresh dumplings, the chemical residues on the toys give off an odour that causes headaches and dizziness. Idiotic social media challenges tempt children into sticking these chemical bombs in the microwave and burning themselves on molten plastic (linked article in German).
Even the best-quality dumplings are rubbish. With everyone wanting to cash in on the hype, potentially toxic dumplings are flooding the global market. The consequence of which are product recalls, warnings and chemical burns. It’s enough to make me want to throw up – despite never having bitten into a Squishy Dumpling. Dumb, dumber, dumplings
A menace on every level
Of course, there’s always some kind of marketing spin used to pass off the latest tat as a useful gadget. Legend has it that any product with zero discernible use is actually a «fidget toy» – a valuable tool for stress relief.
Do Squishy Dumplings help strengthen your fine motor skills and concentration? Well, consider how effectively fidget spinners, pop-it puzzles and other popular products from previous years were at doing that – and where they’re gathering dust now.
Source: Shutterstock/Tanuwashvets
No, these dumplings are a menace on every level. To the environment, to parents and to the kids who feel compelled to chase down every last sparkly dumpling until they’ve found the «right» one. Once the toys meet their all-too-premature end, they’re carted off to landfill sites. As if we don’t have enough waste to burn already.
Kids, feel free to keep squishing my flabby arms. They’ll deliver many more years of fun, and won’t lose their texture nearly as quickly. Plus, they’re biodegradable.
Above all, please, please, please spend your pocket money on something else.
Simple writer and dad of two who likes to be on the move, wading through everyday family life. Juggling several balls, I'll occasionally drop one. It could be a ball, or a remark. Or both.
This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.
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