Boomers, we’re really not to blame for another hot potato
I’VE stayed quiet long enough: when millennials were blamed for the decline in sales of diamonds, golf club memberships and raisins (you’re welcome) we took it like men (in the toxic heteronormative patriarchal sense of the phrase, obviously). We accepted the boomer rage and sincerely apologised for the downturn in napkins/ marmalade/cruises. We tried to honour your pain. But I cannot stand by and accept responsibility for murdering potatoes: this time, you’ve gone too far.
A new campaign run by Bord Bia, the Irish Farmers’ Association and the Irish Potato Federation has received €1.95m in funding to get millennials into potatoes, after the area of potatoes planted in 2019 was the second lowest on record, beaten only by 2018.
In a survey, it was found that in the 18-34 age group, products such as quinoa were associated with words such as “hipster, modern, new and young” while the potato drew comparisons with the “older generation, farmers and rural types”.
Now, I’d like to see the methodology for this survey. Because I don’t know a single millennial who thinks, in 2020, that quinoa is ‘‘new’’ or ‘‘hipster’’ — these sound like the descriptors of our middleaged mothers, the real driving force behind quinoa consumption in Ireland.
Middle-aged Irish women are absolutely mad for a bit of quinoa, having spent their whole adults lives being terrified of potatoes (“I only have to look at one and I’ve put on a stone”) and passing on that irrational fear to their millennial children, who still have PTSD from living with parents on the Atkins diet at formative ages.
When millennials do anything wrong, the traditional knee-jerk reaction is to blame avocados: and potatogate is no different. Millennials, we’re told, are more health conscious and informed on nutrition than any generation before — but apparently we also believe that avocados (250 cals) are a viable, less fattening, alternative to potatoes (100 cals each).
Boomers appear to think that avocados are a uniquely exclusive habit, that precludes all other unrelated activities (buying homes, eating potatoes, being a fully functioning member of society). I look forward to Bord Bia’s recipes for potato guacamole, or for potato on toast.
The campaign will be hiring influencers to target potential consumers — though none have been announced at this early stage. I wonder will they be tapping into the existing pool of Irish influencers, piggy-backing on the successes of skinny tea and face masks, or is Bord
Bia incubating their own talent in the wilds of Meath?
I would like to put myself forward for this job: not only am I passionate about carbohydrates, but I actually kind of look like a King Edward too.
I could do a TV show, where I travel around potato farms and meet potato farmers who tell me about their potatoes and present me with a steamed one to eat in front of them, and I say it’s lovely and then I steam my own potato for the people watching at home. I would say things like, ‘‘Oooh, this is a fantastic potato’’ and ‘‘the trick is to use an entire fistful each of salt and butter’’.
Millennials and potatoes are the perfect combination: we have a lot in common. Like millennials, potatoes are undervalued and unfairly maligned.
They are blamed for things they couldn’t have caused. People think they’re bland and predictable, and frankly that there’s too much of them everywhere. But, admit it, you’d miss us both if we were gone. *******
The proportion of Irish millennials aged 25-29 living with their parents has grown at one of the highest rates in Europe between 2007 and 2017. The recent Eurofound report found that the share increased from 36pc in 2007 to 47.2pc in 2017 — which, despite being almost the highest jump in the EU, I think we can all agree is actually a pleasant surprise. We thought it would be worse.
The report also looked at the differences in wellbeing between boomerang millennials and those who have moved out. Unsurprisingly, the cohort having their washing and cooking done for them by their mammies were better off financially. But it turned out that subjective well-being — life satisfaction, happiness, satisfaction with family life and optimism about one’s own future — was worse.
All the rent-free accommodation in the world doesn’t mean a thing when you’re 28 and still have your mother persuading you to have just three more bites of your quinoa every night. I suppose it’s hard to feel optimistic in your single childhood bed, the detritus of lives that could have been (broken guitars, skateboards, dreams) surrounding you every night as you drift into uneasy millennial sleep, dreaming of the day you have your own kitchen and can bake your own potatoes with abandon.
Obviously, family life is much more satisfactory for everyone when you don’t actually have to see your family.
But millennials needn’t worry — because planning permission has been granted, second time around, for a co-living development in Dublin. The idea of co-living is a kind of half-way house between being a child in your family home, and an adult in your own home.
Last year, Dublin City Council found the level of shared facilities on each floor “objectionable” after seeing that many occupants would have access to just a single kitchen and living area.
However, in its appeal, the developer argued that its plans were “in accordance with national policy including the Action Plan for Housing and Homelessness — Rebuilding Ireland”. It’s unclear how glorified student halls can actually meet housing targets in real life, and not just on paper — after all, they are essentially selling bedrooms with the promise of karaoke nights.
It’s equally unclear if living in one of these 16 square foot sleep-pods with 100 other adult-babies would increase life satisfaction and optimism about the future. Better the devil you know, says you. *******
When Love Island returned the Monday after Caroline Flack died, it was unusually subdued. The previous two episodes had been cancelled, and the opening tribute to Flack by Iain Stirling was accompanied by drone shots of lapping waves and coastal cliffs, his voice cracking with emotion. The trademark theme music was absent as the show started. And for the rest of the week, Love Island was a utopian dreamland without its traditional backbiting and humiliation.
Perhaps it’s because it was the end, or perhaps it’s the grieving production team, or the weight of public scrutiny — but Love Island has been a joy. Tonight’s is the most loved-up final we’ve ever seen, with official couples, exclusive couples, couples who are in love.
It was a week of sweet dates on safaris, rowing boats, fairy-tale castles. There was a talent show, where contestants got to showcase their skills (presumably for potential employment after the villa). It was the definition of good, clean fun and difficult not to smile at.
At the beginning of the season, Love Island’s future looked uncertain because it was a bit rubbish — a facsimile of previous seasons.
But throughout this run — and especially since Caroline Flack’s death — we’ve seen the potential for a show that is perhaps a little bit more grown up, and a little bit kinder. Perhaps it wasn’t the television we thought we wanted — but I think it might be the television we needed.