Underhand Marketing Tactics 2

Following on from my recent post, here's a new development. Pester Power has grown up!

Nivea are running the following ad for a man's moisturiser in women's glossy magazines at the moment:

'He brushes his teeth; he washes his hair; he even conditions it. Isn't it time he started looking after his skin?

Every time your man shaves he removes a layer of skin and the natural oils that help protect him from harmful UVAs and UVBs. Encourage him to use an Extra Soothing Moisturiser, specially formulated for a man's skin after shaving. This will soothe his skin and help protect his face from skin-ageing rays. Tell him if he wants to stay on top of his game, it's time he started using it.

Nivea Extra Soothing Moisturiser is available in all the same places you buy yours'

I think we're all very familiar with the marketing theories that play on women's insecurities about ageing in order to shift cosmetic products. But I can't quite figure out their game on this one. Are they perhaps realising that this kind of insecurity-based button pushing doesn't work on men, because in general, men aren't afraid of ageing in the same way that women are? (there's a whole post to be had out of that sentence, but not now...).

If so, then this leaves 2 options;

a) they are attempting to foster similar insecurities in men by creating the impression that a life without the product makes you less attractive.
b) they are in need of a short-term boost in sales, and have decided to shift the product by getting women to buy it for their partners.

If my boy starts worrying about this sort of stuff, then I will be introducing him to the wonders that are Aqueous Cream and Coconut Oil. Bollocks to expensive products, you don't need it.

N.B. I am well aware that these sort of rants can be avoided by simply not buying glossy magazines. It was out of character, I regretted it the moment that I opened it, and have been ranting about it ever since. In my defence, I had 2 hours to kill between rehearsal and gig and I hadn't realised that my fellow singers were too tight to go the pub. Packed bloody sandwiches, good grief.