Ads That Work…
The Bed-headed gal has been running a series of ‘Adverts that work’ and it got me to thinking about a few memorable ads from past and present.
I’ve noticed, as of late, the absence of a particular advertising campaign and I say “None too soon”. Of course, it wasn’t the offensive nature or the cry of the public that brought about its demise, it had simply run its course.
The Herbal Essences hair care line was purported to send women, and sometimes even men, into the throes of passion. For me the challenge of Saturday morning television was not the sugary cereal ads, but watching those damnable ads with my pre-tween daughter and attempting to explain to her in such a way that she would not be shocked, just why the women were tearing at their clothes at the very thought of lathering the daily grime from their tresses. Sure. I could reach for the remote and abruptly change channels, but that often gave rise to even more questions. Finally, I just told her the truth: That the women in the ads “had just returned from a boy-girl party where they had consumed alcohol and smoked cigarettes and engaged in unprotected sex and now, as they attempted to wash their shame away, they chose the product that the Pope had personally blessed. The burning was the Holy water seering their sins away.”
It must have worked. She’s twenty-three now and she’s never been pregnant, only returned home once displaying the symptoms that come with consuming copius amounts of cheap alcohol and she’s adamantly against smoking. And, I’ve never paid for a bottle of Herbal Essences shampoo.
Now, I find myself in a similarly heated frenzy with regard to a campaign that airs smack dab in the middle of prime-time television. Never one to be particularly moved to action by a commercial, I simply laughed at it….at first. Now, they’ve added a second commercial to what is sure to become a series and I’m feeling that old, familiar, sense of dread welling up inside of me, however; this time, it’s my daughter who lunges for the remote.
The bastards who came up with the ads are to be commended: They have surely earned their place in hell. No big fan of ice cream, I am ocassionally contented with a chocolate dipped cone from Dairy Queen. So, yesterday, when I drove past the Cold Stone creamery, made a u-turn and entered the parking lot, I thought to myself, “I’ll be fine. Just one scoop. Puhleeze! Am I really going to fall for the hoopla?” So, let me tell you, Yes. Yes, I did. Hook, line, and sinker.
I dropped $15 dollars on two quarts of ice cream! WTF?! $15! But, I’ve learned my lesson.
Of course, that Birthday Cake Remix was awfully good. And,ooh!, I think I still have some of that Strawberry Blonde hidden in the back of the freezer.
I wonder what that Founder’s Favorite would taste like? Or, the Berry Berry Berry Good…or the Cheesecake Fantasy…
Yesterday, as I paid for what will be the chilly death of my resolution to eat more healthfully, I said to the skinny gal at the register…”Please, my regards to Madison Avenue.”
“What?” she said.
“The commercials. Clearly, they’ve worked quite well for you.” I clarified.
“Oh!” she said, “I haven’t seen them yet.”
Of course she hadn’t. Next time, I’m there. I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.
Right after I plunk down $5 for a ‘Who ya Calling Shortcake Sundae?’
Who can blame me? Have you seen the commercials?