Two companies, Spanx and Equmen, have recently come out with shapewear for men, and it’s selling incredibly well.  However, they did have to overcome a big obstacle—how do you sell something to men that everyone thinks is only for women?  The New York Times explained, “Just as it took time for men to embrace beauty rituals they considered effeminate — remember when moisturizing used to be a metrosexual thing? — so has there been a learning curve for shapewear.”  The President of Freshpair, a website that sells underwear to both men and women, pointed out, “The biggest obstacle is to get a guy to understand it’s a new category, and it’s O.K. to wear it…It is still a little taboo.”

The marketing to women is straightforward: this product will make you look thinner.  Spanx products for women have “compression zones” and “tummy-taming panels” and “control tops.”  This is because women want to be compressed, have our tummies tamed, have our bodies under control.  (But who is really controlling it?  Think about that.  And while you do, I will be eating this delicious sandwich.  Just kidding. I haven’t had bread since 2006.)

Advertising has exploited (and helped create) women’s anxieties for many years.  At this point, we know we’re fat, so that assumption can be used in advertising without insulting us—or at least, no more than we’re insulted by most things directed at us, like razors or the movie Leap Year.  We also respond well to words such as “youthful,” which we know means smooth-skinned and thin, just the way we know that the opposite of “youthful”– “womanly”–is really a nice way of saying “fat.”  It’s almost as bad as “healthy.”   As a friend put it, “When people use [womanly] …I think they are really saying that I’m thicker than the average girl—it’s a nicer way of saying it.”

The marketing for men has less emphasis on how slim these will make you look, because men haven’t been desensitized to the accusation (hello, reality).  If an ad implies men are fat, men might be a little insulted.  So instead of talking about how this product will make you less fat, Equmen and Spanx for Men talk about how it will make you more confident (because you are less fat.)  It improves your posture.  It was even reviewed in Golf Today, which said, “When you rotate through the [golf] swing there is a definite ‘core stability’ improvement.”  As the Times pointed out, “While women tend to gush about what has been called the ‘flesh-compressing miracle of Spanx,’ men are more likely to point out how super-tight tees relieve their back pain.”  So instead of “fat off,” the slogan is “game on.”  With this shirt you are getting ready to face the world and take on its challenges (including, apparently, the challenge of buttoning your pants.)

Equmen’s website claims their “helix mapping technology focuses on core body mechanics—optimizing support, improving posture stability, and slimming at the same time.  This makes Equmen compression clothing ideal for any man, whether he wants to slim his body under a suit, reduce back pain, or improve performance in any sporting activity.”  This sounds like an ad for either a car or that pull-up machine you hook up to your door frame.  They use the language of things men already love—driving around and doing pull-ups in the house—to make a formerly feminine product sound masculine and scientific.

This product is also relying heavily on what Mark Twain calls The Equality Racket.  Equmen stands for Equality for Men. As the Chicago Tribune put it, “Men are under a lot of pressure right now to perform financially, socially and romantically. Why shouldn’t we have the same products that women have had for years to make us feel better?”  (I just mimed throwing up.)  Nothing inherently makes you feel better, except for massages and Smartfood Popcorn.  The things the Tribune refers to are less things we do to make ourselves feel better, and more things advertisers have spent years making us feel bad for avoiding.  However, they are correct in their use of the word “us”—these products women have been using to make men feel better.  No one wears a push-up bra because of the convenient resting place it makes for beer or a book (if you are reading in bed.  And are incredibly nearsighted.)

Not having anyone care about your looks is one of the perks of being male.  If you’ve ever been to a comedy TV show’s writers’ room, you know what I’m talking about.  (Except for my dad, who is awesome and would obviously never be fat.)   It is easier for men to get ahead without having to dress up or lose weight.  Women do not get to wear these things; they feel they have to.  Equmen and Spanx have turned pressure into privilege, and everybody loves privileges.

This ad is a lot like Passover, because it has answers for a variety of people.  And we’re all drunk by 7pm.

For the Simple Child, who does not even know that being a girl is really hard, Dove’s commercial poignantly conveys the overwhelming feeling many of us have to as we encounter hundreds of images a day telling us how we should be better, thinner, shinier.  I especially like the contrast between the slow opening and the rush of images, which get across how alarming and exhausting all of this can be.  Each image–both in the ad and in real life–is like someone startling you while you are thinking your own thoughts—Boo!  You’re slacking! The ad captures the intensity of being told over and over again that you must work harder—more times a day than you can count, and sometimes they come at you so fast you don’t even know to look out.  I try to identify some in this blog, but there are so many, and sometimes I’m doing other things, like sleeping or sprinkling Splenda on stuff.

The Wise Child sees this ad and thinks she’s cornered Dove, because Aha! How can you talk about the evils of The Beauty Industry when Hello, you are The Beauty Industry!??!??!?

First of all, stop yelling, and use less punctuation.

The Wise Child is on the right path by questioning things, except she is wrong and thus dangerously close to being the Simple Child.  Dove is not The Beauty Industry.  It’s important to distinguish between different Women’s Improvement products and brands.  Dove sells things women buy voluntarily to look nicer and more feminine, but that does not mean they are part of The Problem.  Not all cosmetic companies are the same.  Dove sells mainly shampoo, lotion, body wash, and sun block.  These are things that make you a more presentable, comfortable version of yourself.  (Lowercase self—we know The Self is a lie.)  You’re not bringing women down by washing your hair or not getting skin cancer.

The Wise Child’s way of thinking is the same kind of unrealistic stereotyping I face as a feminist who likes high heels, my hair, dating cute guys, and not being fat.  I’ve been told these preferences mean I’m not a real feminist.  But that argument only strengthens the stereotype that all feminists have hairy legs, wear clunky shoes, shave their heads, and hate men.  You can be pro-choice and pro-mascara, and feminists, too, can have fun, flirty lashes that won’t clump.

Moderation is possible, and it’s important—as is recognizing the many complicated differences between various ads, products, and expectations.  Only by analyzing those differences can we understand what we are up against and what we are involved in.

As for the other two children, the Wicked Child would probably say that girl should be bombarded by all those ads, because we wouldn’t want her to get fat, which could cause our health care payments to rise.  Then the Wicked Child would step on a kitten.

And the Child Who Does Not Even Know Enough to Ask—why are you even here if you don’t have a question?  You can’t just show up for the free coffee and maple walnut scones.  Get out of my office!

“Harley Davidson: Respect.”

Allow me to summarize what you just saw in case you went into shock and are experiencing temporary amnesia. A guy rolls up on his Harley to what I guess you would call a house. Inside, his hotter, younger girlfriend/possible sex slave is hooking up with some way cuter guy who doesn’t look like he hates Jews. The couple hears the older guy come in, so the girl makes her boytoy hide in the closet. The guy doesn’t say anything, and he gets on her, and they probably do it.  Except then we see a wedding photo, and it’s the girl with the guy we thought was the boyfriend—because surprise!  The guy hiding in the closet is actually her husband, and the guy she’s currently hooking up with, the one who is all silent and rapey, is the boyfriend.  The husband hides in the closet, because he’s afraid of the boyfriend, who is tougher looking and older (maybe it’s his dad?)  The older guy can strike fear into the hearts of husbands, because he drives a Harley Davidson—as the ad says at the end, “Harley Davidson Motor Cycles: Respect.”

Advertisers do not often promise their product will offer you respect.  Usually they talk about how you’ll feel like your true self, young, fresh, and not like you’re wearing a diaper.  So why did they choose respect?  And can someone tell me how I can work in an Aretha Franklin joke right now?

Ads appeal to something we want but don’t have.  This ad tells us that potential Harley-Davidson consumers don’t feel they get the respect they deserve.  How very Rodney Dangerfield of them.  If you have this motorcycle, people will finally—finally—respect you.

Looking at the demographics of Harley Davidson buyers, it’s easy to understand why advertisers would want to appeal to this sense of I Get No Respect.  In 2007, 2006, and 2005, 88% of the people buying Harleys were men, and the majority were over 45.  It’s not hard to imagine guys a little past their prime feeling insecure and like they need some more respect around here.   It is also worth noting that the Buell Riders Adventure Group, which, along with the Harley Owners Group, has over 900,000 members, is known simply as BRAG.  Maybe because the people in it want something to brag about.  Because they have nothing to brag about.  Which would make them want more respect.

Harley Davidson offers a lot in the way of community. BRAG and HOG have tons of members, and group rides are a popular and important part of owning a Harley Davidson.  Their popularity implies that these consumers were previously lacking in community—if they already felt part of a group, they wouldn’t feel the need to join this one.  Also, if you own a motorcycle, you probably do not live in a city.  You might feel disconnected from stuff, since you are farther away from the things that bring people together, such as other people.

Ruth Crowley, former Vice President of Harley Davidson, said, “Harley-Davidson is a person in disguise.  Harley-Davidson appeals to you as an individual, appeals to your need for escape and adventure.”  Escape from what?  Maybe escape from your life in which you get no respect.  You’re a person in disguise—normally, you lead an alienated, isolated life in which you get no respect.  But the real, inner, you is this cool guy.  Harley Davidson lets you escape from the frustrating reality of your life and Get Some Respect.  Now if only your wife would respect you a little more and stop sleeping around, all would be well in this world.

“I’m the man your man could smell like.”

Why would Old Spice want to let consumers in on the secret of advertising and admit that ads sell aspirations more than products?  Why doesn’t this commercial make us say, “You’re right.  Advertising is dumb, and I won’t be fooled into buying Old Spice or anything else and I’ll go live at Walden Pond before I spend a dollar on something this stupid.”

First of all, because Thoreau is dead.  Second of all, because the ad gives the brand an appealing attitude.  It’s funny and well written.  I like these Old Spice guys.  If I’m going to buy deodorant or body wash from anyone, I’ll buy it from these funny, cool guys.  By being entertaining, the ad stays in your mind.  You’ll remember it next time you’re at Duane Reade buying PowerAde and condoms, or whatever men get there.

Or your girlfriend will remember it when she’s buying diet coke and your soap—that seems to be what these advertisers are saying by directing the commercial at women.

This weekend I was visiting my family in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and I was hanging out with my little cousin Dan in his dorm at UNC.  (Speaking of which, GO HEELS!)  In a room for two eighteen-year-old boys, there were four bottles of Old Spice body wash.  As both are single (sorry for blowing up your spot, Dan), I’m assuming they bought these themselves.

The direction at women seems to be more of a comedic crutch and cliché—men don’t know what to do or how to put themselves together, so we do it all for them, am I right, girls? —than anything based in what we here at the science factory call “truth.”  It also softens the message “you will never be as good looking as I am” by turning it into “your boyfriend will never be as good looking as I am.”

The ad sets a tone for the product—and by extension, anyone who buys it.  It’s funny and doesn’t make excuses.  It gets what’s going on.  You think, I’m funny, and I don’t make excuses.  I get what’s going on.  This is the body wash for me. Attitude is the product.

Smell-based products—perfume, body wash, and the eagerly anticipated smelly scotch-tape—are particularly hard to advertise earnestly, because you can’t put smell in a photo or on film.  You can’t even describe it well, because many are a mixture of numerous smells, and we often do not have perfume or body wash smell criteria that we know needs to be met. An ad for a car can tell you some of the features that may be important to you—mileage, cargo space, ability to read your mind and run over people you hate.  An ad listing the various smells making up a body wash would not help us get a good sense of the product.  Nor does our language offer a good vocabulary for describing aromas.

True, there are those perfume ads in magazines where you lift up the flap to smell it, but then oh God you got too close, and now you have a headache from huffing Burberry Brit like you’re a subject on Intervention, and then you accidentally touched your face to the ad so now your chin, nose, and forehead reek of perfume.  And that’s only magazines—TVs cannot emit odors.  Technology being what it is, advertisers must rely on selling an idea rather than the product itself.

So if Old Spice is revealing how advertising really works, but they’re using this to sell you something, doesn’t it all even out and really it’s the same, since you end up buying it anyway?  Aren’t they just as guilty as all other advertisers?  Yes.  But I can’t write them off entirely, because Old Spice smells really good, and my ex boyfriend wore it, and he was really cute, but I guess we met each other too young, and there were a lot of communication issues, specifically because he never called me when he said he would.  But, I mean that was like four years ago.  Point being, I like Old Spice, and I like this ad.

"Deep down dirt won't budge? GET STEAMED."

I have never experienced deep down dirt that wouldn’t budge. The only thing that comes close is the time during freshman orientation week when I wrote on my hand the room number for my Italian placement exam. Then I went to the 80s party and woke up in the morning with “FISK 302” backwards on my face.

That fun aside, dirt usually comes off our faces. However, Biore has come up with a way to sell something by pretending this isn’t true. They’ve invented a problem. Dirt on your face is not a grass stain on your jeans. It’s more like a blood stain on Lady MacBeth’s hand—all in your mind. This ad has convinced you the problem is real by using a cunning tactic—incitement.

Incitement is how a culture gets you to read yourself. Someone—Ben Franklin, a teacher, an ad—tells you who you are. You see yourself that way, and respond with this new understanding of yourself. Except they made up that first idea in the first place just to get you to respond like that! By making certain things seem natural—just a part of who you are—the desired response is then also seen as natural. Buying the product is just an extension of who you are. You’re not going out of your way or doing anything weird, you’re just acting like your normal self.

Not much of this ad makes sense. 55% cleaner? How do you even measure clean? I had always of “clean” as something that either was or wasn’t—like “unique” or “fired.” And cleaner than what? According to their site, cleaner than without steam—but that means they’re comparing steam versus no steam, not Biore versus some other brand. This is getting weird.

The ad says the cleanser works with SteamActiv beads.  What the Front Door is a SteamaActiv bead?  Taking an E off the end to make it look all fancy and Scandinavian doesn’t make it real.  Yes, I would look cool and smart if my name were Sophi and I had spent my lif tim in th stat of Delawar, with never a struggl, but it’s just not how things ar(e).

After looking at this ad for a while, I did start to wonder if maybe my skin isn’t as clean as I thought. We tend to believe what people tell us we are. If you tell students they’re stupid, they’ll do worse on tests. If your boyfriend tells you you’d look better in gold jewelry, not silver, you start thinking about how much you’ve always hated that silver necklace your grandpa bought you, and how silver makes you look fat. Wait, what?

In 1968, elementary school teacher Jane Elliott spent a day telling her students that blue eyed kids were better and naturally smarter than brown eyed. She gave them special privileges that she withheld from the brown eyed kids. By the end of the day, the brown eyed kids had become subservient, and they preformed worse in class.  While we all know babies are dumb and have easily malleable brains, but the point remains—people internalize what you tell them they are.

A report released just last week showed that when a group was given a math test and told that men usually did better on it than women, the men did in fact score much higher than women—the average male score was 25. The average female score was five. Another group was given the same exam, but they were not told there was any performance difference between men and women. In this case, men averaged 19, and women averaged 17.

In his essay “The Way To Wealth,” Ben Franklin spends ten straight pages telling Americans they’re not working hard enough. By the end of it, I always feel anxious and that I need to be doing more, even if I hate it, because, come on there will be sleeping enough in the grave!  So maybe I should be out there working overtime instead of lazing away the day reading Ben Franklin essays! Or maybe reading these will make me smarter, and I’ll work better, so I should stay here? I just don’t know! And now I’m upset!!!

By inventing this anxiety that we aren’t doing enough, Ben Franklin invented the American worker. Today, Americans get on average 10 paid vacation days a year—almost half of most industrialized nations—and yet somehow find time to watch The Blind Side, which makes me want to punch someone.

Elliot told her students You’re not good enough, and they felt inferior. Franklin told American workers You’re not working hard enough, and we felt lazy. Now, Biore has told us we aren’t clean enough, and people are buying. Just how many people?  Well, according to their site, “Biore is now used by many people around the world.” With that kind of statistical analysis, it’s got to be good.