As a food scholar and recipe developer, K.C. Hysmith was fully entrenched in the world of fake food before her first child was born. Ahead of her due date, Hysmith purchased a little vintage Italian aluminum tea set, one of those "millennial-marketed" Fisher-Price French press coffee sets and so much more.
There was one item, however, that she "begrudgingly" waited to purchase. Hysmith's partner had reminded her that because they were currently living in a small Boston apartment, it didn't necessarily make sense to make room for a play kitchen — something their daughter wouldn't be able to actually use for at least a year.
"I begrudgingly waited until her first Christmas to have one shipped from Ikea," Hysmith told me via email. "I'm fairly certain they haven't changed their design over the years, and it is very Ikea-esque, minimalist and practical, leaving plenty of room for customization."
Hysmith bought a roll of very trendy Rifle Paper Co. wrapping paper to make a backsplash. She found a few matching crates for storage on top, as well as a little white cupboard to attach to the wall next to the kitchen to serve as a little fridge. (Like most real kitchens, Hysmith noted, the Ikea play kitchen definitely lacked adequate storage.)
"Pleased, but not fully satisfied, I dove headfirst into Pinterest for Ikea-kitchen reno hacks but quickly found myself in over my head," Hysmith said.
There, she found tutorials for augmenting the play set with stick-on-tile backsplashes, which made her wrapping paper look a little sad in comparison. There were versions with spray-painted hardware and real water-pump systems in place of the included plastic "sink." Play kitchens are no longer the brightly-colored, rounded-edge plastic toys of yesterday; they are now, thanks to companies like Ikea and undeniably chic miniatures of decidedly adult kitchens, complete with faux-subway tile and little fake gas burners.
Play kitchens are no longer the brightly-colored, rounded-edge plastic toys of yesterday; they are now, thanks to companies like Ikea and undeniably chic miniatures of decidedly adult kitchens, complete with faux-subway tile and little fake gas burners.
These shifting aesthetics can tell us a lot about our culture's changing relationship with domestic performance — and the increasing pressure to have a "trophy kitchen," even if only a plastic one.
"Imitative play is one of the most foundational kinds of human behavior," said Dr. Meredith Bak, PhD, an associate professor of childhood studies at Rutgers whose work specifically explores historical and contemporary children's toys, film and media.
She continued: "Though it's only been in the past couple of hundred years that toys have been commercially manufactured and sold to large segments of the population that more explicitly invite kids to replicate domestic tasks — toy kitchens, cleaning supplies, and on another scale, dollhouses — as a form of play."
Bak pointed out that it's important to remember kids often play with toys in numerous unintended ways. For example, the knobs of a stove could become the console of a space station, while a toy sink could become an ocean for a Lego boat. However, "in different historical moments, these toys' benefits might be framed in relation to bigger social anxieties . . . such as nutrition issues, where the thought is that kids playing with toy versions of 'healthy' foods might model eating a 'balanced' diet."
Those anxieties are, of course, largely held by the parents rather than the child. Because many parents select toys for their kids (at least until they're a certain age), they're typically in control of the aesthetics of those toys.
"Kitchens are available in so many different styles, which reflect everything from their intended uses to buyers' stylistic preferences," Bak said. "For instance, bulbous plastic kitchens with chunky accessories can be marketed to kids under three, given the tighter restrictions around toy qualities, choking hazards, etcetera . . . But there's also an uptick in play kitchens that reflect higher-end sensibilities: more subdued color schemes, cleaner, modern lines. Some companies, like Brio and Ikea, have been producing this kind of kitchen for a while, but now there are lots of brands that make kitchens that reflect the aesthetics of urban luxury apartments [and] large, suburban homes with updated kitchens."
Take, for instance, the $150 Little Chef Berlin Modern Play Kitchen by Teamson Kids, a striking blue number with faux-gold accents and a subway tile. The product description reads:
This modern blue play kitchen is designed with white brick backsplash and gold hardware, making it great for both boys and girls, and completes any home, classroom or playroom. The interactive design features openable oven and microwave doors, a turning oven knob, two burner knobs, two stove burners, two shelves, sink with gold faucet, washing machine, laundry dial and an under-sink cabinet to enhance your little ones play time. With six included accessories: a cordless phone, spatula, pot, pan, lid and cutting board this toddler kitchen encourages role play and lights up your little chef's imagination and creativity.
Then there's the very professional-looking $499 Large Wooden Kids Kitchen Playset from Crate & Barrel:
Order up! This modern play kitchen is designed to look like the real deal, that kind of kitchen that's well-built but newly remodeled. From menu-planning to task-sharing, this set lets aspiring chefs express their creativity and explore new ways to play. A chalkboard at the top lets them write out and/or doodle today's specials, and a pretend clock keeps things moving on track (we all know how busy the lunch rush can get).
Looking at these models, and the many, many examples like them, I found myself personally torn between wanting these kitchens for a future child — and wanting them for myself. (Well, the adult-sized versions.) My current kitchen is clean and utilitarian, but it isn't exactly Pinterest-worthy.
As someone who works in food, and who often has to find creative workarounds for creating culinary content from my home, I understand the pressure associated with wanting to have what author and academic Emily Contois would categorize as a "trophy kitchen." In her paper "Not Just for Cooking Anymore: Exploring the 21st Century Trophy Kitchen," which was published by the Graduate Association for Food Stories, Contois wrote that, more than ever before, the American kitchen is center stage.
"With a deluge of television networks, TV shows, magazines and websites, images of the dream kitchens used by famous chefs, owned by celebrities and purchased by aspiring homebuyers bombard American viewers," she wrote. "The near constant barrage of ideal kitchen images has contributed to the redefinition of the kitchen, explaining in part its ascent within the home and the American consciousness."
Kitchens, even among those who aren't ardent home cooks, are now cultural status symbols. This is seen very clearly when watching HGTV, where the phrases "restaurant-quality kitchen" and "kitchen for entertaining" are applied in seemingly equal measure, both on programs that chronicle home improvement projects and those that simply showcase aspirational homes.
Kitchens, even among those who aren't ardent home cooks, are now cultural status symbols. This is seen very clearly when watching HGTV, where the phrases "restaurant-quality kitchen" and "kitchen for entertaining" are applied in seemingly equal measure, both on programs that chronicle home improvement projects and those that simply showcase aspirational homes.
As Contois wrote, French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu has posited that members of "the petite bourgeoisie are marked by the desire to follow the taste of the bourgeoisie," or that members of the middle-class are influenced to follow trends set by the wealthy.
"The cycle of kitchen remodeling demonstrates this trend, as kitchen renewal is popular among the middle-class as well as the more privileged," Contois wrote. "Notably, however, participation in trophy kitchen consumption and access to the status it provides are largely limited to those with the capital to purchase their own home as opposed to those who rent."
As Bak stated, toys that are made and marketed during particular points in time may reflect larger anxieties held by society. Thus, the shift in the aesthetics of play kitchens may, at least in part, point to the growing pressure some homemakers feel to turn their own kitchens into a trophy of domestic achievement.
"For many parents in the millennial age bracket, myself included, creating a practical — let alone an Instagrammable one — isn't financially viable, but perhaps we can live vicariously through our kids instead," Hysmith said. "We can purchase or create bits of currently trending kitchen-related material culture (the brass fixtures, ratan finishes, etcetera) for a fraction of what the real versions cost and participate in a form of conspicuous consumption that would otherwise be largely aspirational to our current demographic."
That said, Bak pointed to a potential positive that comes from these increasingly chic play kitchens. "The trend toward more 'realistic' color schemes helps to code the associated play as more gender neutral, as opposed to feminized kitchens with pink accents," she noted.
And while, as a food scholar, some of the gendered implications of the "Instagrammy aesthetics" of certain play kitchen upgrades are hard for Hysmith to ignore (especially given the long history of the kitchen as a traditionally feminine space of domestic labor), her child isn't thinking about that yet.
"So far, though, the biggest parallel between my kitchen and my kids' play one is that they've learned to let the dirty dishes pile up in the sink," she said.
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