Bringing the Swagger Back One Hot Man at a Time



Dude, I love this commercial. I've watched it over and over again and crack up every time. Granted, I have a pretty lame sense of humor but I laugh with/at Mommy Pie with the rest of 'em.

Here's what I love about this ad:

1) The product name Swagger is pure genius. Swagger is a word we don't inject into our vernacular nearly enough. I suppose it's because few men really swagger anymore. Really, can you name one man who swaggers and gets away with it? Mac Daddy is a Leo so he should swagger, but he's the most un-Leo of any Leo I know. If Mac Daddy swaggered he'd just look like he had been riding a mechanical bull in an out-of-the-way airport bar on the outskirts of Pittsburgh for way too long. Or he'd look like someone stuck a gnawed corncob up his butt.

2) The tagline is perfect. "The scent that makes a difference." It totally goes with the commercial, the brand personality, and all the psychological consumer marketing mumbo jumbo stuff that account planners work very hard to figure out and copywriters and art directors work very hard to make come to life. I rank it second to the best tagline ever.

3) The squeal. More perfect than Erkel. I cringe when I hear it. Perhaps because I can relate. Since I'm on the cusp of 40, and my extraordinarily geeky middle school days are about 17,029 exits behind the road I travel on now, I can admit this publicly; I was the girl version of the squealer back in the day.

And the final reason I love this ad:
LL Cool J. Really, need I say more? I might go into heat if I do.

Mad for Men

4, count 'em, 4 more days until Don Draper graces the small screen for the second season of Mad Men! I can hardly contain myself. OK, so maybe only my screen is small. We are those technology laggards without a movie screen-size flat screen taking up a whole wall in the family room. But, oh, do I covet one! So far Santa's elves have not been listening. Ahem.

Don Draper looks absolutely grand in a hat (Who's going to bring back this fashion?!), and his wife, the lovely Betty Draper, makes suburban angst look downright stylish. John Slattery is hotter than ever; he epitomizes a sexy gray haired gent. That facial structure is the stuff that day dreams are made of, with whipped cream and a dollop of hotness on top. Ooh la la! Many of the mad men make my heart go aflutter. Don Draper looks unlike anyone I've ever worked for in an ad agency; he is divine. I can't wait to see what devilish Pete Campbell conjures up this season. And what's to come of Peggy and her baby?! The illegimate one!

If you have missed out on AMC's new series Mad Men, you must run, RUN I tell you, to get the DVDs to get up to speed. The whole show is eye candy; not just the actors, the way it's shot is gorgeous. Amazing cinematography, set design, and costumes. Oh, the clothes are to die for! Why is that all the outfits in 1960 cinched in a woman's waist just so? Surely they didn;t really have a 17-inch Audrey-esqu waist. The kitten heels, dainty handbags, and flouncy skirts are fab.

Smoking cigarettes is indeed one of the main characters, and the smoke adds a lovely ethereal element to the screen shots. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I am totally against smoking. I abhor it. But it makes a big bang in Mad Men.

Mad Men is clever, intriguing, provocative, enchanting. It depicts a genuine example of the work force in 1961 and does an even better job showing us how much life must have sucked for women back then. Martinis and crystal decanters at the office. Sultry cigarette smoke galore. Redefining family values. Office politics. Seduction. Infidelity. Even if you never worked in an advertising agency or commuted to New York City, you won't regret spending an hour a week with Don Draper.

Smiling Faces. Beautiful Places. For Heterosexuals Only.

There are some lovely places in South Carolina. I even know some lovely people from there. Mac Daddy and I have spent lots of time in Charleston and Myrtle Beach and had a grand time. I've been golfing in Hilton Head. I've spent lots of money at the outlets. The palmettos are splendid, the Battery architecture divine, and the food scrumptious.

It's the people who leave a bad taste in my mouth. Rather, the politicians. And the "family values" lobbyists.

Apparently South Carolina does not want gay tourists. Their money is like Monopoly money, I guess. Apparently discrimination and intolerance are woven into the state creed. Read all about it here.

Why are family friendly and gay friendly still mutually exclusive? Bird has a friend with two moms. They're a family and gay. And for the record, they are awesome parents and amazing women. I'm lucky to count them among my friends. Bird thinks it's cool that his buddy gets to have two mommies. I think it's a fine lesson at an early age. It's not like they're telling their son to not play with Bird because his parents are heterosexual. Gasp!

I've worked in marketing for over 16 years. I've worked in the tourism industry and even worked with the gay market segment for a fortune 100 worldwide financial services company. My desk has been covered in tourism research, budget proposals, signed estimates, and invoices. There is always someone on the client side approving the work and writing the check. Like any job, there is a checks and balances system to ensure the direction and delivery of the work is appropriate, on target, on budget, on time, and um, what the client wants. Yeah, I'd add what the consumer wants too (it's the most important element, actually!), but unfortunately, clients rarely care about that. I love how this whole campaign got through the system with none of the powers that be knowing about it. Sounds like South Carolina has some infrastructure issues to iron out.

And here's my favorite part from a high school principal who'd rather quit his job than approve a gay/straight alliance club at his school:
“Our sex education curriculum is abstinence based,” Walker wrote in a letter to the school. “I feel the formation of a Gay/Straight Alliance Club at Irmo High School implies that students joining the club will have chosen to or will choose to engage in sexual activity with members of the same sex, opposite sex, or members of both sexes.”

Can someplace explain this sex ed math to me? How does being gay equal having sex? Somehow all those straight kids aren't thinking about the birds and the bees? Are only gay people having sex? How exactly do we explain those 9100 teen pregnancies in South Carolina last year to girls ages 10 to 19?! No, you don't need reading glasses from the Walgreens aisles; it says 10. As in FIVE YEARS OLDER THAN MY SON! And isn't the word "straight" inherently setting up the the opposite to have a negative connotation?

Hmmm...seems to me that South Carolina has bigger fish to fry than gay people eating off the same forks and sitting in the same horse drawn carriages as the rest of us? Do you suppose restaurants have a separate set of dishes for brown people? Where does it stop? For that matter, where does it begin? What makes this attitude and blatant intolerance OK? What really irks me is that this mentality is not leaking its way into the next generation, it's being poured into their minds. Nevermind that South Carolina has one of the lowest literacy rates in the country. What are we going to do about it? Knock, knock. Does anyone care?

And we wonder why sterotypes are not so far from the truth.

Look, I'm brown. Don't think for a minute that I'd stop and ask for directions at a podunk gas station in South Carolina. I've gotten "the look" at boutiques on King Street, and that's with a Fendi bag on my arm (no doubt the lousy retail shop girls making all of $6.14 an hour thought was a fake). My point is that ignorance ignites racism. Stereotypes go both ways. Perhaps my vitriol isn't helping matters, but damn it, I'm mad. After all, South Carolina still sells t-shirts that say something about "the War of Northern Aggression." The rebel flag flies high. Seriously, get over it. There's another war going on right now folks, that's not just in any way.

I'd like to see the looks on the jowled faces of Oran Smith and David Thomas once the Wiccans show up toting cauldrons, chalices, wands, and incense. Wouldn't it be delightful to hold a Wiccan esbat to celebrate the next full moon in Columbia?

Perhaps secession was not such a bad idea. What do we do with the incorrigible state to my south? Apparently it doesn't want to play by the rules.

Ad Cents

Is anyone aware of the proposed legislation to limit the ability of small publishers and bloggers to carry or sell advertising? I've just heard of it from a graduate school alum (helps to be part of a Journalism school listserv). This could affect Google AdSense and operations like Federated Media.

It seems that the Internet Advertising Bureau is the only group trying to battle this legislation. Anyone have insight on this issue? I can understand how this could be under the radar for me because I am living at a frenetic pace these days, but how could it get by my blogging brethren? Is it for real? Is there more to know? Am I over reacting? Please shed some light on this girl in the dark.

Yoo hoo! That would be me. Over here. No, here. Just follow the sound of my panting and hyperventilating. I'm in the corner behind the stack of to-do lists, bills, business cards, receipts, dog eared recipes from Cookie, and Post-it notes of books to buy (which include Sacred Hunger, Silent Spring, The World Without Us, Mississippi Sissy, Loving Frank, Blessed Unrest, and Blindness in case you're wondering).

What up, man? This mama needs a new pair of shoes!

About 5000 Messages a DAY Trying to Sell You Something

Guess what Mac Daddy, Bird, and Deal are doing right now? I will bet you all the lovely, strappy, citrus hued shoes in the Nordstrom's shoe department that you won't guess correctly.

Spending quality time with Moose A. Moose?
Making pink pancakes?
Cleaning up pee from the floor?
Beating each other with helium balloons?

Nope. Not that they haven't already done all those things this morning.

Mac Daddy, Bird, and Deal are watching American Idol. David Archuleta has entranced them at the moment. Deal does not even like television, yet the magic of American Idol has its glitzy showbiz grip on my son. My 2 1/2-year old son. You know what he just said? "I wish I could be that boy." Gulp. Do I have a Clay Aiken on my hands? Should I get him an agent so he can dazzle audiences on the Mickey Mouse Club? What the #@*!

So from where did this stem? This American Idol curiosity. Oddity, even.

McDonald's. As in the hamburger joint. You know the one. Of Happy Meal fame.

The boys got American Idol toys in their Happy Meals recently. Oh, please. Like you don't indulge your kids with crap to stuff their little faces with from time to time. The innocent Hershey's Kiss doled out to pottying toddlers or a Cinnabon to give in to the senses at the mall? Don't judge me for patronizing McDonald's. It's not like my guys eat fries and drink Dr. Pepper. They get the apples (no caramel dip) and milk (white). Trust me, the kids at Dirt & Noise eat quite well, even for grown up standards.

Bird and Deal were rockin' out to the American Idol happy meal dudes they scored. They made a pretend stage and had a rock concert. Then the questions started. All from a logo. Preschoolers know what logos are! Granted, their mother (that would be me, and I enjoy referring to myself in the third person time to time) works as a marketing consultant. Words and concepts like logo, brand, and consumer are already implanted into my children's psyche.

Sidebar: I'm willing to bet that Bird and Deal understand branding better than most adults who think a brand is simply a logo. Maddening, it is! I suppose all the banter about end caps, shelf talkers, and EDLP in the grocery aisles is paying off.

Bird and Deal wanted to know all about American Idol, which of course included wanting to watch it. Since they go to bed at 7:15 it was out of the question. "What about DVR"" asked Bird. OMG. The things they learn and know at this age astound me. And so here we are watching American Idol on a Sunday morning. And here are my boys latching on to David Archuleta. Perhaps because they can sense he is a youngin to whom they can relate.

And this brings me (finally!) to the issue at hand - marketing to children. McDonald's usually has Happy Meal toys that advertise movies that the Happy Meal Set cannot even watch. I'm pretty sure that rated PG kids aren't satiated by one meager burger and apples. Pirates of the Caribbean for three-year olds. Really? Spiderwick Chronicles for America's four-year olds? What, do we want to invite nightmares into our late night slumber? Why promote movies that are inappropriate to the audience? It sure makes life harder for us parents. I love the grocery check out lines that are labeled "No candy." As if teaching graciousness and thankfulness isn't difficult enough.

Bird and Deal mostly watch commercial-free television, but that doesn't mean they aren't subjected to and exposed to other forms of advertising. Now remember, planting messages into people's heads is my livelihood. The irony is that I want to protect my children from it. Selling high fructose corn syrup snacks (especially under the guise of being GOOD FOR YOU!) and skater dude video games to little kids is not OK. I know that kids influence many, many purchasing decisions in the household. And many, many parents succumb. I just wish that everyone, people like me included, would think about the bigger picture and promote positive images and products to our youth.

I'm not suggesting that parents are to be absolved of responsibility or that we should not indulge our children. Could we just be more mindful of the effects of what we are selling to our children? Little girls don't need Bratz dolls. They will face a long road of body image and confidence struggles without those hoochie dolls sexing them up at a tender age. Boys don't need to develop skater dude too-cool-for-school attitudes in preschool. Once lost, innocence cannot be found. Unlike happiness, innocence is a destination. Once you've been there you cannot leave, and it follows you everywhere.

Let us diminish the ill effects of marketing to kids and replace those messages with positive ones. American Idol is innocent enough. Rated G merchandising is innocent enough. I don't have a problem with the likes of Nemo or Curious George making their way into our toy boxes. I can even handle American Idol. There's a clear demarcation in my household because Mac Daddy and I drew the line.

Must I remind you of Joe Camel?

Venting. Ranting. Blubbering.

Brawny Man
Has anyone else noticed the new Brawny man? He is less Paul Bunyan than the guy from yore. He's still wearing the flannel shirt and thermal shirt, but now he looks more doofy than well, brawny. He reminds me of the cute guy casually sipping the foamy head off his draft Bud (no imports for this fella) at a local joint somewhere in Wisconsin. He seems approachable, affable, and earnest. He's the kind of guy women have fantasies about and secretly wish their husbands smelled just a tish like the rugged earth too. The flannel shirt is a nice change of pace from her husband's oxford cloth button down that he sports in various shades of blue. Upon closer inspection, the hot rugged guy at the bar doesn't own a single book and only watches FX or the strong man competition on ESPN 2. Then the eye candy dissolves into nothing but doofus. That's what the new Brawny man is to this girl. Couldn't the fine folks at Georgia Pacific channel my friend Erik instead? He looks fine in a flannel shirt and even has a brain.

Branded
It is pretty apparent to my faithful readers that I am an Obamaholic. I have refrained from bashing Hillary but I cannot hold out any longer. I abhor her. She was my candidate of choice at first. I was really pumped about a woman in the Oval Office. She is smart, driven, strong. I'm not actually sure when the tides turned for me. I was on board with her policies and plans and thought she was getting an unfair shake in DC all these years. Now I can't stand her. Hillary is a brand, not unlike Tide, Cheerios, or Rachael Ray. The public buys more than what's on the inside. In fact, Kraft mac and cheese continues to fare poorly in blind taste tests, but consumers pay a premium for the brand. We often don't even know when we feel an emotional connection to a brand. The noodles in the box are a commodity. Let's face it, so are politics. We vote for the whole package, inside and out. We vote for a BRAND in the same way we pay top dollar for one. I think brand Hillary is killing the democratic party, making the fissure as deep as the one our overall country faces. How can any brand preach unity when that brand itself represents anything but?

Stuck
You wanna know what I really hate? Fruit stickers. Must every piece of produce I buy be decorated with a sticker or two or five? I know I'm buying an organic Gala apple. I don't need separate stickers that tell me so. Organic! reads one. Gala! barks another. Local! reads one. How much waste could we reduce if we banished all fruit stickers? Cleaning off the gummy stuff is not as easy as you think, not to mention it's maddening. Have you ever bitten into an apple only to realize the little piece that you can't manage to chew up is actually a damn sticker that you forgot to remove?

Sounds bytes
A random list of what's making me crazy:

The mom who is busy on her cell phone being snarky about someone else while her kid is kicking sand in my son's face at the park.

Older kids who think it's OK, cool even, to teach Bird and Deal about guns. Older as in 9; old enough to know that a 4 and 2-year old should stick to T-ball and digging up earthworms.

Parents, committee members, people in general who don't contribute in any way, shape, or form. Would it kill you to bring in some store bought bagels to school?

Gas prices. Have I mentioned how much I loathe the Bush administration?

Shedding. My Persian cat leaves a bit of her wherever she wanders.

Fuel surcharges that double the cost of an airline ticket. Just when you think kayak.com spits out a good fare, you realize that the extra charges kill you.

Mosquitoes. Both Bird and I are suffering from the welts that the little buggers inflict. Poor kid has scratched clear through to the stratum licidum on his leg.

What's eating you these days?