Go on, be a big baby: It’s time to untangle kidulting
It’s defined as a tendency in adults to seek leisure in activities designed for children. Is there a right way to kidult? Why does mindfulness matter? Read on.
You know it’s real when they assign a name to it. It’s time to untangle “kidulting”.
It’s defined as a growing tendency in adults to temporarily switch roles and seek leisure, relaxation and joy in activities that are typically designed for or enjoyed by children. In some ways, kidulting has always been around. Costume parties, parades, laser tag and treasure hunts all qualify.
The term, in fact, has its roots in the 1950s and ’60s, when “kidult” was used by the TV industry to describe adults who watched shows that had originally been created for children (think Tom & Jerry or The Flintstones).
In recent years, however, amid rising levels of anxiety, uncertainty and burnout and a growing difficulty destressing (World Health Organization data suggests that the recorded prevalence of anxiety and depression shot up by 25% in the first year of the pandemic alone), a dedicated kidulting industry has begun to take shape.
An entertainment company called Fever has been setting up pop-up multi-sensory museums called Dopamine Land, since 2022. They’ve appeared in London and Madrid, with Washington DC scheduled next. At these pop-ups, people can have pillow-fights with friends, family or strangers; bob about in bathtubs filled with faux bubbles made of plastic; sip bubble tea under a “sky” of bubbles; or walk through a popcorn room infused with the sights, sounds and smells of popcorn being made, while eating some too.
The experiences “aim to stimulate nostalgia-inducing childhood memories,” Fever noted in a statement. The name comes from the fact that experiences infused with nostalgia have been linked with heightened levels of the feel-good hormone dopamine.
In Singapore, Chicago, Austin and New York, outposts of the Museum of Ice Cream, first set up in 2016, invite people to float in a faux-candy-covered “sprinkle pool”, wander through candy-cane arches, shoot hoops in a unicorn-themed playground, and of course eat as much ice-cream as they want.
In Mumbai last year, psychotherapists Anusha Manjani and Zarna Sanghrajka set up The Play Quest, a play-based therapy service that holds sessions where adults can doodle, colour, play-act as their favourite cartoon characters, and compete in lemon-and-spoon races.
Sessions cost about ₹1,500 per person, and participants take home a “bag of play” (playdough, nostalgic sweets, drawing supplies and stationery; reminiscent, the founders say, of the goodie bags many would have left a friend’s birthday party with as children).
Kidulting doesn’t have to be outsourced, notes Nicole Booz, author of The Kidult Handbook (2018). From spending a day in a treehouse to having a water-balloon fight, Booz’s book acts as a how-to guide. She wanted to write it, she says, because as a psychology graduate and a journalist she has seen the toll escalating stress levels are taking. “I believe it’s so important to find new ways to relieve stress. Reliving fun memories can help us not take everything so seriously.”
A growing awareness of the importance of self-care and mental wellness could be contributing to the popularity of kidulting, Booz says. “Play is deeply connected with rest and creativity. In a distracted and hustle-based culture, it can help bring presence and mindfulness,” Manjani adds.
In an added benefit, done right, kidulting allows for a momentary return to what Booz calls “a beginner’s mind”. This sense of a lulled, secure, wandering mind can spark creativity, and is a skill many of us tend to lose over time, Booz says.
Watch out for the flip side of this leisure trend: kidulting as a marketing gimmick. This shouldn’t become just another box to tick on a to-do list, Booz says. “I would encourage kidults to consider activities versus possessions when it comes to engaging in nostalgia. Kidulting is about experiencing the joy of childhood and that, in many ways, can be done for free.”
