Birds of a feather

Somehow from the dire selection of last night’s TV schedule we ended up watching a programme called ‘How to look 10 years younger’.
For those who actually have lives and were doing better things, it’s one of these reality shows where a fashion expert irons out the wrinkles for some old fuddy duddy. Then by the magic of surgery, cosmetic dentistry, professional hairdressing and makeup and a clothes budget like they’ve never had in their lives, the prematurely aged wrinkly is transformed into a desireable godess that her husband of 30 years can barely recognise.

As if that wasn’t fascinating enough, I was struck by the ad breaks. One after the other, the well-targeted ads hammered home their messages to their perfectly identified viewer. Though I was doing the family ironing myself, it was clear that it wasn’t me that they were talking to – oh no, they knew exactly the profile of the women that they wanted as customers and every ad spoke loud and clear: buy this, try that, get these and you’ll look more beautiful, eat this and you’ll be healthier, this will take away your problems, get these for your children, that for your husband’s tea. Cars, makeup, food, chocolate, nappies, hair colour, pet food, even tasteless soluble fibre, the messages were relentless – each one demanding attention of the precise individual most likely to be watching this particular show.

How could anyone take it all in? How could you leave the ad break feeling anything other than completely bewildered? When everyone’s shouting at once, is anyone really listening?

After the sensory assualt of the ad break, the brainless fairytale tranformation of witch to princess must be a welcome relief to the women all over the land who are sitting on their couches sipping tasteless soluble fibre and hoping that their prince turns up long before the crows’ feet really set in. Hope there’s some footie on the telly tonight.

Who gives a monkey's?

A quick glance at YouTube confirms that the kids are going nuts for Cadbury's new TV spot. But what on earth does it have to do with chocolate?

The answer, of course, is nothing. It doesn't have to. It's just a case of creating an arresting image and hoping that the advertiser will pick up some recognition by association.

They've even managed to get away with a dodgy old Phil Collins track - which I initially thought would put it firmly in the uncool camp but, no, the YouTube links have started trickling into my inbox already. 

And my kids LOVE it. And they're willing to argue that it's a great ad.

But for me, a gorilla on the drums just doesn't fit with Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Maybe I'm wrong, of course, but I can't see the kids who so adore the ad rushing off to buy any more Dairy Milk than they already do. And that's the point of advertising, isn't it?

Some days I feel so old fashioned.