Tag Archives: die die die

Adtacular, Die Die Die, Parental Guidance

Die Die Die: Dairy Queen Trains Future Lolitas

I know this will totally come across as a Won’t Somebody Please Think of the Children?! post. But if there is one point on which I agree with the Helen Lovejoy Crowd, it’s anger over the premature sexualization of little girls. It’s always bothered me, and now that I have a daughter of my own, it bothers me even more. The biggest perpetrator of this crime is, of course, Madison Avenue–although Roger Clemens has certainly done his part.

To be fair, this trend is part due to the fact girls now hit puberty at ridiculously young ages. Thanks to all the hormones we pump into the animals we eat, if you poured some milk and slapped a raw steak on a bowling bowl, it’d start growing breasts. But I also wanna say it
started with Britney Spears, ’cause hey, why not?

Way back in the late 1990s, Britney Spears made music that was squarely aimed at the Radio Disney crowd, while cultivating a persona of Slut In Training. She had all the confused sexual politics and virgin/whore complexes of a Rock Hudson/Doris Day movie, but with better production values and half the self awareness.

The creepiest part about it was, when you heard her talk at this time (and God help you if you did), she seemed blissfully unaware of the Lolita Vibes she gave off. When the subject of sex was actually broached, she sounded like Kenneth the Page from 30 Rock trying to fake-hit on Tracy Jordan’s wife. She was clearly being manipulated by a publicity machine capitalizing on the Look But Don’t Touch Appeal of an underage hottie. Not to be alarmist, but look how well that turned out for her.

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Adtacular, Seasonal Fare

Die Die Die: Lexus Performs the Collected Works of John Cheever

I don’t have a problem with the commercialization of Christmas. Or at least I think it’s pointless to rail against it. Christmas is a holiday whose main purpose is to buy presents for other people. In other words, commercialization is built right in. You might as well hop in the ocean and complain about how wet it is. “What the hell–this ocean is full of water!” You know when Christmas wasn’t commercialized? Never. Don’t like it? Deal with it, Linus Van Pelt.

What I do find gross at this time of year is commercials that equate Spending A Lot Of Money with A Demonstration Of Love. There have been many offenders in this category over the years, but my least favorites have to be the Lexus Christmas ads. These spots return every December, a lot like the old Norelco ad. But rather than show Santa tooling around in an Electric Shaver/Sled, these ads want you to drop 80 grand on a luxury sedan.

The commercials vary slightly every year, but they follow a basic formula: One family member–almost always a father/husband–uses a clever means to reveal his purchase of a Lexus to its lucky recipient. Sometimes, children are involved. Sometimes, carolers are put to work. Whatever ruse is employed, it’s twee and precious and ends with the revelation of a brand new Lexus in the driveway, topped with an enormous red bow.

As with many ads that infuriate me, I don’t understand what audience this commercial is pitching to. If you’re rich enough to swing a Lexus, you buy one, end of story. The Rich don’t need a holiday as an excuse to treat themselves to a brand new automobile. And they don’t need to be enticed with the oily aromas of Dealer Incentives and Year End Rebates.

If you’re waiting around for an Annual Sales Drive or Factory Surplus to buy a Lexus, guess what? You can’t afford one. Putting these commercials on the air, at this time of year, is just a slap in the face to every Working Schmuck laboring under a mountain of debt and expectations.

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