When I was a kid the two best things in the world were (in no particular order): Paddle Pop sticks with the cricketers' names on them, and the Smurf collection available at all fine BP servos (gas/ petrol stations for you non-Australians).
There was one problem though.
It always infuriated me that each Smurf was defined by a personal characteristic/ career (Brainy, Grouchy, Chef), representing multiple identities, while Smurfette was just "the girl" as though that alone was her claim to individualism.
That said, I was a weirdly precocious/ militant six-year-old.
Later , however, I learned that my righteous indignation was indeed on the side of the righteous, and in fact, the misogynist origins of Smurflady Lumps were far worse than I could have ever imagined. Turns out she was designed specifically to sow discord among the male Smurfs, only failing because she was too ugly and (gasp!) brunette ... until the Happily Ever After moment when Papa Smurf used his magic to make her all pretty and blonde!
Papa Smurf as Hugh Hefner? That kindly zaida as the devil? The universe no longer makes sense! Does that make Gargamel the goodie? Na, na, na, na, na, na, sing a happy song, my tuches!
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