Advert Rant 2: Lust, Luxury - and Laundry?

It's been a while since I saw an ad that made me go all Gordon Ramsay - swearing and cursing at the screen, howling with derision at the idiots who produced it and the even bigger idiots who will doubtless be influenced by it. But this one left me temporarily speechless.

It's for a new 'Super Premium' sexed-up range of fabric conditioner, by Procter and Gamble, marketed under their familiar Lenor brand. The product steps right away from the usual Spring Meadow Summer Fresh type of fragrance that we're all used to, and brings out the dark sensuousness of wash day with delights such as Black Diamond & Lotus Flower, Ruby Jasmine, Amethyst Rose and Sapphire Violet.

Leaving aside the fact that three of those names sound like something that a Spice Girl might name their baby daughter - if the advert is to be believed, using these products will turn us all into irresistable, seductive temptresses, to be found dressed in slinky black nightgowns and writhing in orgasmic frenzy on our clean sheets.

P&G are very proud of their innovation. Their Trade Communications Manager, Paul Lettice would like us to know that

"We are confident the launch of Lenor Infusions will help to make the task of washing a more glamorous, invigorating experience for consumers with the 'infusion' of premium fragrances and sumptuous softness of Lenor.

In answering consumer demands for environmentally friendly products, the Infusions range not only invigorates and softens clothes to the highest Lenor standards, but is also more sustainable, using up to 70% less packaging per wash when compared to regular Lenor, which in turn means fewer lorry loads on the road. Lenor Infusions is a great opportunity for retailers to boost their laundry profits and drive incremental value.”

Oh fuck off.

Only the most deluded corporate bullshit merchant could contrive to weave a sentence which runs seamlessly from 'the task of washing' to 'a more glamorous, invigorating experience'. I note that he is also a man, but I'm not going any further with that one - draw your own conclusions.

As far as I can ascertain, the only way you could possibly combine those two wildly disparate concepts is to dress up in your best lingerie, set the washing machine to spin and...

...but as this isn't that sort of blog, I'd suggest coming to one's own conclusions with that one too.

This is a laundry product. There is nothing glamorous about laundry. Unless P&G can come up with a product which transports me to a place where I get to share a hot tub on my own terms with 5 inhabitants of my choosing from the Lost island, after they've actually done my laundry for me, I will not allow any further talk of washing and sensuousness.

And if you're likely to find yourself swayed by the environmental credentials of this product, please don't. Go out and buy some Dryer Balls instead. If you don't believe in tumble drying, I suspect they could also double up as a serviceable sex toy.

Reduce, Re-use, Recycle. And all that.

All dried up...

I am sorry to inform that you that I am currently addled with both hormonal nonsense and chronic insomnia. And as a result, I can barely string a sentence together, and I've got nothing for you. Nothing.

However, the thoroughly lovely Gypsy recently stumbled across a fine example of the 'Vitriolic Open Letter' genre that I am so very fond of myself. It's old, but I've never seen it before, and as a quick bit of Googling revealed that the lady in question, Wendi Aarons is a Blogspot blogger herself, it seemed appropriate to give it some more publicity. I laughed my tits off...she is hilarious.

---


An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core™ or Dri-Weave™ absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from "the curse"? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my "time of the month" is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call "an inbred hillbilly with knife skills." Isn't the human body amazing?

As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy! The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: "Have a Happy Period."

Are you fucking kidding me?

What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness—actual smiling, laughing happiness—is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything "happy" about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man. If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like "Put Down the Hammer" or "Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong"? Or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX

DNA Dating: A Service Not To Be Sniffed At?

Dear Dr Eric Holzle-Egg-Head,

I have read about your new DNA-based dating agency Scientific Match with interest, amusement, and no small degree of frustration.

A dating agency that uses swabs of cheek spit to analyse a customer's DNA, working to a theory that we are inclined to sniff out mates whose immune system's genes are different from our own? An easy target, surely?

A whole week later, I am forced to admit defeat.

I am almost entirely unable to write a reasoned piece showing exactly why your methods are insidious pseudo-scientific bollocks, designed to create maximum profits from minimal evidence. And believe me, I have tried.

Even my learned scientist friend, MadCow Ph.D. - who, I swear, knows everything - couldn't take it apart. She informed me that 'It is true that there may be something in the "smell" thing', although she did add 'I think you need to be in the same room'. She also muttered something about being 'a great way to meet some real wankers', but we digress...

Let's have a look at the packaging though.

You're quite open about the fact that you are not a chemist by education or training. You are, in fact, an engineer. You don't say what type, but you clearly know what people think about dating engineers. I've been down that road before now, and believe me, you are quite right to take the first shot at that one.

Let's be frank, it's a much quoted truism in university engineering departments and engineering firms - I've worked in both, never, ever again - that even clothes are the lowest priority for an engineer, assuming the basic thresholds for temperature and decency have been satisfied. If no appendages are freezing or sticking together, and if no genitalia or mammary glands are swinging around in plain view, then the objective of clothing has been met. Anything else is a waste. Unless you're pitching for commerical business, in which case, your secretary will be required to dress you before you leave the building.


And let's not forget the engineers' classical view of the physical differences between men and women.

And you want us to give you $2,000 to solve our dating issues?

Still, in my experience, engineers are generally quite bright in their own, unique way, so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt on that one too.

I'm intrigued by the idea that women have better orgasms when properly matched to a DNA-compatible partner. How do you test for this, exactly?

When I lived in Cambridge, I used to earn myself some extra cash by pimping myself out to postgraduate research students as a guinea pig for their experiments - at £10 a go, it was reasonably lucrative, cash-in-hand evening work.

None of them ever asked me to submit some cheek spit, have sex with a number of men of their choosing, and then rate the quality of the orgasms - several times, of course, to control for the fact that scientific results must be consistent and repeatable. Still, there's only so far £10 will go, even for a poorly-paid music graduate from the wrong side of the town/gown divide.

I'd also challenge the hypothesis that DNA-matching will return a compatibility with 20% - 30% of the population. I've been to parties and bars where well over 100 people have been present, and have failed to find even one that I'd have taken home, never mind 20 - 30. Perhaps I just went to the wrong parties. Oh hang on, I used to spend too much time around engineers...

It seems that the rest of the $2,000 life membership fee goes towards personality profiling, just like any other dating agency.

Given that a high proportion of the population seem to believe in their compatibility with 2 or 3 particular star signs, you could also look at starting your own astrological dating agency - the odds of success appear to be reasonably similar.

Alternatively, heading towards the shallower end of the gene pool, how about an agency where all the women are young, slim and attractive, all the men are rich, and no-one's IQ is over 105? That should definitely work...particularly in some areas, like our very own Canvey Island, where, if the rumours are true, finding many examples of differing DNA may prove to be more of a challenge than you originally bargained for.

I've got to ask though - if the service is so effective, why on earth would anyone be needing a life membership? If it's that good, I would have thought that if you're not happily married, and enjoying the best orgasms you've ever had within 6 months, nothing short of a full refund should be in order?

Still, in all my years of opinionated carping and bitching about marketing and advertising-related bollocks, this is possibly the best wheeze I've ever seen. I'm a huge fan of true entrepreneurship, and you have spotted and seized a niche market and garnered a remarkable amount of positive publicity in a very short space of time.

Very well done, sir. A+, A* - or whatever it is you get for being a smart arse these days...to you.

Kind Regards,
Melissaria

Inventive Ways to Lose a Girlfriend...

It would seem that the vagaries of the fashion and beauty industries that inspired last week's rant are finally about to answer a question that's been bugging me for years.

Do men tend to require fewer and simpler cosmetic products because they really are less vain and more secure, or have the evil arch-bastards simply not found the right way to get to them yet?

Yesterday however, I discovered that increasing numbers of men, inspired by that David Beckham ad, are heading to beauty salons up and down the country to get themselves a Boyzilian.

Now, whilst both David and Victoria Beckham have kept UK hairdressers churning out replicas of their trend-setting barnets for over 10 years now, I hadn't predicted that this particular look would be driving British menfolk into the grasping clutches of the beauty industry in search of the perfect Back, Sack and Crack.

There's a cynical part of me is thinking it highly likely that the smooth appearance shown in the ad owes more to an ad designer's Photoshop skills than to those of hot-wax-wielding beauticians.

But the whole thing reminded me of a client of ours a few years ago who persuaded his girlfriend to model a product for festival-goers that he had invented and was trying to bring to market. The ad showed the product draped over her bare bottom, and she was surprised and delighted by the way she looked in it.

'Blimey', she said.'My arse looks really nice there doesn't it?'.

'You've got to be kdding me.', came the reply. 'It's taken me 6 hours in Photoshop to get it looking like that!'.

I wonder if they're still together?

Stuff and Nonsense.

I've been spitting bile and foaming at the mouth this week over the evils of the UK and USA fashion, beauty and cosmetics industries.

From that Tad Safran article, to the increasing quantity of media space given to the outrage that is vaginal cosmetic surgery, it seems that the arch-bastards of these insidious industries are embarking on a major offensive (and I mean that on every level) to make sure that women have their tiniest blemishes and imperfections highlighted, exaggerated and ridiculed with every turn of every page, and with every click of the remote control or mouse.

I'm not kidding about the surgery either - I've read two pieces this week alone; a brilliantly argued piece by the Guardian's Cath Elliott, followed by fellow blogger EmmaK's irreverent take on the subject. I defy you to read either with your legs uncrossed...

So, I've been wondering, just how dim and gullible do these so-called fashion and beauty gurus think women are? And then I opened today's Sunday Times Style Supplement, and I found this.

£460.

For a desperately trendy and exclusive Moncler coat.




















That looks like a gigantic, shrink-wrapped turd.

Women of intellect and reason, please feel free to draw your own conclusions.

What Men Want. Part 1: Boobies

I've been having fun and games with Next* recently. To cut a long story short, I bought some jeans, which, whilst gorgeous, are so badly made that I've been back for replacements on average every three weeks since I bought my first pair in September. It's been a great way of getting new clothes more often than I normally do, although it's starting to get tiresome now.

On Friday, bless them, they slipped their Christmas Gift Guide into my bag.

Their lovely marketing people have constructed a 'problem page', where their resident Doctor Fashion, Dr Stefan Lindemann (oh please...doctor of what, exactly?) answers fake queries whilst plugging a couple of products. The Husband, the long suffering endurer of my griping was with me, and the following conversation ensued:

Me: Oh God.

The Husband: What?

Me: I'm clearly too old to be shopping at Next now. Look at this...they've got a fake fashion doctor answering fake fashion questions for people with so-called problems that I'm just too old to relate to.

The Husband: (sighs resignedly) Go on then, read it out...

Me: OK, listen to this one. 'I've got a crush on someone in the office. How do I make him notice me at the Christmas party...'

The Husband: Get your tits out.

Me: I hadn't finished; ...'without looking too desperate'.

The Husband: (thinks for a second) Get one tit out...

QED. Almost certainly a better bet than spending £38 on the the truly awful dress that they were plugging.

Now I just need to wait for a little more unreconstructed hilariousness so I can complete the trilogy. Part 1: Boobies, Part 2: Blow Jobs, Part 3: Beer.



* a major UK mid-market (but aiming lower these days) high street chain store.

Underhand Marketing Tactics 4

Mothercare again, and they're becoming such frequent offenders with the bastardliness of their ads that I'm giving them their own tag.

As you've probably gathered by now, I don't like being advertised to without consent. I particularly hate ad campaigns that are designed to ensure that the relevant brand logo is right in my face when I'm thinking about a particular subject.

It's unsolicited anchoring in my view, and I really think that there should be greater concern about it, ethically speaking.

So you can imgaine my utter delight when I bought my little boy some Mothercare own brand pyjamas the other day and found that a major brand of fabric conditioner had hijacked the washing labels:

I've got to hand it to them for this stroke of creative genius, even though it made me swear in a very inventive way. What you can't see so well in the photo is the little ad card attached to every single pair that had to be cut off and binned as well, oh, I was just loving them by that point.

Fabric conditioner doesn't feature on my shopping lists these days, so thankfully, I'm immune to this particular piece of manipulative nonsense. However, before I cottoned on to the wonders of eco and dryer balls, this brand had already made me their bitch.

I feel used. And not in the way that I like.

Incidentally, I also got suckered on the same shopping trip by my little boy hanging out of the trolley and sobbing for a particular toy. I'd been meaning to get one anyway, and didn't fancy making a return trip just for the sake of standing my ground, so I gave in. The time has come to leave him at home, or there will be no money left over for buying gin!

Underhand Marketing Tactics 3

...the bastards nearly had me as well...

Whilst in the grips of raging PMT yesterday afternoon, I popped into my local Tesco Metro. I was suffering from that sensation of 'if I don't eat a huge quantity of chocolate right now I am going to do some serious damage to something.'

Anyway, there was a HUGE yellow sign right underneath my favourite chocolate bars, saying 'SPECIAL OFFER - 3 for £1.00'. 'Fantastic', I thought, grabbing at them like a deranged pigeon dancing on a discarded pile of chips. 'That ought to keep me going until teatime...'

Hang on a minute though...what does that little white sign poking out from underneath the HUGE yellow one say?

32p each, you say...

Dirty, thieving bastards. And yes, I did complain. The signs are now gone.

A Trivial Ethical Dilemma

During the composition of my previous post, I found myself wondering - 98% of which mums, exactly? They never ask me...

But today, I had an email from a friend about a market research group looking for mums like me, taking place later this week.

My dilemma is this; would it be appropriate for someone with my opinions on consumerism and marketing to go along, to put forward an alternative point of view? Or would it just be utter hypocrisy to get involved at all?

I really don't know the answer.

My current reasoning is this: given that true insight can only be had when opinion and experience are combined, it would not be hypocritical to go along, just this once, to find out what really happens at these things. It might even be interesting.

If you come back next week, and I'm suddenly promoting baby sleep aid products, then you'll know that I went, and they made me their bitch...

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.

Underhand Marketing Tactics 1

I have many a bee in my bonnet, but the one with the loudest buzz of all concerns what I believe to be underhand marketing or advertising methods. It's the cause of many a debate between The Husband and I, as he's an entrepreneur who genuinely believes that all's fair in love, war and sales tactics.

It's really hard to draw a line between 'fair' and 'underhand' promotional tactics, and I realise I've got a long way to go with my thinking on the subject. But as I'm here and I haven't posted for a couple of days, here are two examples I have spotted or been told about.

Mothercare - will not be getting a visit from me any time soon after a verbal report from my friend ChiefBoobyMum. She says that they are currently employing tactics based on Pester Power to boost sales of this year's Must Have Christmas present; a large, dancing Iggle Piggle toy. They have put the big display of the toys right next to the tills, and the sales assistant encouraged her to buy the toy as her three-year-old was practically crying for it by the time she got served. She has more sense, thankfully, but still felt like a miserable old ratbag of a mother for standing firm.

Sainsbury's - are having a laugh if they think I can't spot Vanity Sizing when I see it. I am well aware of what size the old bootylicious can be squeezed into on a good day, and in my opinion, those knickers were a good 2 sizes bigger than the size stated on the label. Am I supposed to think 'I know, I'm going to do all my shopping at Sainsbury's in future, because just walking through their doors magically makes my arse shrink'?

Bastards.

UPDATE: I saw the Iggle Piggle toy on a child-free shopping trip this afternoon, so I took the opportunity to examine and play with it. It is complete and utter crap.

For the same amount of money you can get a laughing Elmo toy which is much more useful. Another friend of mine has one, and her little girl is so scared of it that she can put it in the doorway of any room she doesn't want her going into, and it immediately becomes a little, menacing, furry bouncer. Now that's what I call value for money.

An Open Letter

Chief Executive Officer
Corporate Megabastards plc

Dear Sir,

It's about time that someone told you what happens when your website forces customers to give a reason for their purchase 'for marketing purposes'.

We lie to you.

This is for 3 reasons:

1. We are annoyed that we had to fill in all our details twice because 'some important information was missing' from our first attempt.
2. None of your offered options came close to reality and in any case...
3. ...it's none of your business, you nosey bastards.

If you continue to give us no choice but to answer your poxy questions in order to buy your product, then we will have no choice but to tell you deliberate big fat porkies in order to spoil your marketing fun.

You are all very irritating.

Kind Regards,

Melissaria