Lady Geek

“I hate the games shops as much as his Xbox. The boys make me feel stupid. All I want to find him something new he’ll enjoy, not made to feel dumb.” Frustrated Mum, trying to find a gift for her son, aged 8

Recently I’ve been thinking about this Christmas and the number of women responsible for buying the presents for the whole family.

If my own family is typical, I will be responsible for the tree, decorations, in-law relations and presents for th whole family. The Christmas shopping is perhaps the most tedious of the festive-chores, a task which strains even my super-human powers of empathy. The overwhelming majority of my friends feel the same way: One friend agreed that she would rather have her teeth drilled than experience the bustling pandemonium of suburban Xmas retail!

What should be a delightful magical experience is to Jingle Hell. I share the frustration of the brave gifters who try to engage the acne-faced teenage game-store assistants. The only thing worse than their appearance is the quality of advice they give:

Most women who are not gamers themselves have no idea how to shop for games. They have no way of knowing what is cool, a fact that the producers of games readily exploit. This accounts for the extrordinary popularity of games based on film and cartoon licenses (e.g. Bratz, Spiderman and Harry Potter).

These games are chosen not because of critical acclaim or any knowledge of the game’s content. it’s more a case of basic brand-recognition and desperation. After spending more than five minutes amongst shelves of almost identically packaged plastic boxes a typical mom will grab at the first recognizable brand she see.

It’s no surprise that the game-gifting experience causes anxiety, frustration and the sense that we have grown apart from our Children’s generation both technologically and culturally. The end results are usually disapointing. The gifters leave with pangs of doubt about their choice. These are made worse by the frenzied manner in which kids will enthusiastically rip into their brand new games before apparantly loosing interest the moment they open their next present. Could there be a retail experience less satisfying?

We are told that the new breed of consoles have brought the gaming experience to the masses, however spend a moment in a game shop and you will certainly agree that nothing much has changed. Around this time of year the stores are full of glum-faced women trying to figure out just what their kids are likely to enjoy. The hype about mass-market gaming is making mums feel even more dumb.

I’ve noticed that all shoppers seek refuge in comfort zones. This means we tend to go into shops we know and feel comfortable in. Women who find comfort in spacious, tactile department stores often do not understand the language of the game-store boxes: The fact that the art on the game-boxes often bares little resemblance to the game only adds to the confusion when you cannot remember which console your child actually owns.

The end result is lost-sales as mothers will drift back towards the safe areas. Perhaps, she thinks, I can buy little Harvey something else this year. This is how game-retail is failing the games industry.

The answer that some pundits suggest is to abandon retail entirely: To shift the games-buying experience entirely online. But this is not a solution for many women. The Internet is great if you know what game you want if you don’t it can be even more daunting than browsing the shelves.

I think the solution is much simpler and requires a less radical shift in the way retail works. Games retailers need to recognize a few simple facts about the way women like to learn about the products before buying.

For example – around this time of year many lingerie stores employ male assistants in order guide male shoppers through the complexities of buying female underwear. Why can’t games and tech retailers provide a similar experience to help the mums? All I’m asking for is a little bit of empathy from the sales-people and designers of games-retail.