Megan Stielstra's Blog

In Prague, where Christopher and I lived for eight months last year, there's a fairly minimal amount of advertising (compared to the rest of the Western world, where you can't walk down the street without bombardment). I don't read Czech, so I couldn't understand the few ads there were. I could guess: the one with the attractive people drinking Fanta is for Fanta. The one with the attractive people eating yogurt is for yogurt. The one with the attractive people brushing their teeth is for toothpaste. etc. but for the most part, I grew accustomed to a life without the constancy of advertising. They didn't mean anything to me, so I tuned them out.

About six months into our stay, we flew to London to see Embedded, Tim Robbins' play about the war in Iraq. We arrived at Heathrow and got onto the Tube to get to our hotel, and the culture shock hit hardcore. There were ads EVERYWHERE: huge, brightly colored billboards, and they were all in English, so not only was I surrounded but I could also understand everything I was reading. It was total overload, like that commercial years ago for Meijer Thrifty Acres where the little old lady walks into a Meijer's, turns around and walks back out. A helpful Meijer's employee goes after her and says, "Is there a problem, ma'am?" and she says, "It's just too overwhelming." The announcer's voice went on to explain how Meijer's Thrify Acres carried every product known to man.

Interesting how I'm using an ad as a metaphor for how I feel about ads, huh?

Anyhow, there were so many ads in that tube that I thought I might freak out. It was just too much. "Doesn't this defeat the purpose?" I said to Christopher. "There's so many I can't possibly focus enough to remember any of their products!" Christopher is a webdesigner, and has worked for many years in advertising. He calmly explained different theories of subliminal advertising, and told me that whether or not I THOUGHT I remembered any products, in actually they were so ingrained in my subconscious that I wouldn't be aware of them until I walked through the grocer's freezer and was like, "whoah, I TOTALLY need those frozen peas!"

"Get out some paper," he told me, "and write down all the products that you've seen in the past ten minutes."

"I'm telling you, there's too many! I don't know where to look!" I said.

"Just try," he said, and I did, because it was easier to look at my papers than at the walls (remember: I'd been without ads for six months. Imagine it!). The results were incredibly disturbing: I had listed nearly thirty things: beauty products. Food items. Corporations. New albums. Upcoming movies. TV stations. Radio stations. Clothing lines. Broadway shows. Pet food. Art galleries, and on and on.

Since I came back to the States, I try to be as conscious as possible of the effects advertisments have on me (re: AS POSSIBLE). I don't LIKE the idea of some company getting into my brain without my knowledge or permission. Plus, most of the ads I see are just bad: bad concept, bad design, bad storytelling. However (and this is where we arrive, joyously, to the point of this post), when I first saw those new Dove ads, the ones with the very real women with very real bodies in their underwear who are really beautiful, with killer skin, I went directly out to Target and bought that lotion. AND the cream (although I'm not sure of the difference between lotion and cream. Doesn't matter, that's not the point). AND the body wash. This was the very first time I've ever CONSCIOUSLY bought a product based on an advertisment. Happily, the goops work really well and I'm feeling softer, but even if they sucked I might STILL buy them because I want to support that ad campaign. I LIKE looking up at a billboard and seeing women who look like me. That makes SENSE to me.

I know it doesn't make sense to everyone. For example, the Sun-Times reporter who wrote "Really, the only time I want to see a thigh that big is in a bucket with bread crumbs on it." You're a poet, man, really. This is one of those rare instances in which I don't have to take you town for your comments 'cause they're so supremely stupid that you've dug your own grave. Good luck digging out (I'd suggest that killer scene in Kill Bill II when Uma karate chops her way out of being buried alive for some possible pointers).

Anyhow, if you work in advertising and are reading this, I'll admit that I don't know a lot about your job and the specific details you have to take into account. Target markets and statistics and power points and whatnot. I'm just one very real person who likes seeing real people, and I'll give my money to this quite happily. Especially if I feel softer. 'Cause, really, who wants to be all hard and cracked?