Posts filed under 'advertising'
Oh Dove, how you woo us. In the latest series of ads meant to motivate women to buy products based on positive feelings about themselves, Dove has created a truly sassy commercial for Pro-Age, a line of products for women over 50 years old. Here I’ve posted some still images of the commercial, which you can watch on the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty web site.
Maybe you’re thinking, “I’m not even close to 50! Why should I care?” Listen sister, you are going to be 50 someday, so don’t you need some positive role models who actually feel comfortable in their skin? Raise your hand if your mom (or older sister, or aunt, or grandmother) hates her (insert body part here). Let’s see some women who love their (insert body parts here).
The Campaign for Real Beauty web site states that Dove couldn’t show these commercials on TV. I’m not sure whether TV markets wouldn’t accept it (the women are nude, after all), or whether posting it on the web site only is just a marketing tactic.
Dove also took out a four-page ad in Oprah magazine’s March 2007 issue that spotlights one of the women in the ad. (If you have a copy, please send us a scan of it… submissions@about-face.org)
Congratulations to Dove for continuing to help women feel good about themselves. You may be selling us beauty products, but at least you’re not insulting us in doing it.
– J. B.
February 15th, 2007
Let me just tell you about this amazing lingerie catalog I just got in the mail. No it’s not Victoria’s Secret — I’d sooner toss my cookies than look at Victoria’s Secret catalog (or store) ever again. I actually found a lingerie catalog that makes me feel like I might actually look good in the lingerie! My new catalog of choice is: Julianna Rae.
Hmmm, let’s have a look… Gasp! Do I see a little bit of arm fat on that woman on page 7? Do I spy actual attempts at racial diversity? A hint of cellulite on page 15? A woman’s formerly pregnant belly on page 28? And oh my gosh! That one on page 23 might be actually a little bit older than 23! She could even be … 40!
The thing is, a little bit of arm fat or cellulite doesn’t ruin these women’s looks one bit. They all look happy. And even to my raised-to-attain-an-unattainable-ideal self, these women look truly beautiful, not to mention sexy. And shockingly, I almost feel normal when I look at the pages.
Amazing enough, the most wonderful thing about Julianna Rae’s marketing isn’t the models. It’s that you can shop by body type, either through the catalog or on the website. And none of this “wide hips” or “small bust” typing that only makes you feel “less than.” Juliana Rae wants you to feel like the beautiful flower you are:
Now, Juliana Rae is no Victoria’s Secret, and this is no low-rent catalog. The products are a lot more expensive, but they’re also incredibly high-quality. (I can vouch for this: When I got married about eight months ago, someone gave me one of the Il Cieli reversible robes, and I’ve barely taken it off since.)
The company seems to have built the idea of showing real women, and selling to them, into their founding statement. From the Julianna Rae Our Story page:
“Most of us do not look like supermodels (or regular models for that matter) but that doesn’t mean we look like a bag of potatoes (no offense to potatoes - we love them in all forms!). We are healthy, active, independent women who have a sense of style and more importantly, of ourselves. We deserve clothes that fit our lifestyles and our bodies - clothes that make us look and feel great.”
What you can do. When we dislike a certain company’s marketing or advertising, we should be speaking out and refusing to buy their products and encourage others to do the same. The reverse is also true: This is an opportunity to support kind, caring business practices. So if you’re as impressed as I am, show your support by at least writing an e-mail or letter to Julianna Rae. And if you like the products, go buy yourself something pretty! –J.B.
January 18th, 2007
I live 1.7 miles from my office. My commute consists of various combinations of public transportation (depending on the weather, the type of shoes I’m wearing, and the number of times I hit the snooze button) and despite the many frustrations of the San Francisco MUNI system, often the most aggravating part of my commute takes place in the final fifty yards leading up to my office.
You see, the last stretch of my commute takes me past one of the most unfriendly parts of the city for women: the Financial District. More specifically, the corner of Market and Montgomery, where bike messengers gather, where businessmen get their coffee, where commuters wait for the bus, and where construction workers are forever building luxury condos. It is here that I am subjected to a never-ending onslaught of lingering stares, inappropriate catcalls, and lewd comments.
As a side to my morning latte, I get a “What’s up sexy, you wanna go out with me?” (do these lines ever work?) a “Hey girl, you Russian?” (what is that even supposed to mean?) or the ever-popular hissing and kissing noises (what am I, a housepet?). Some comments are accompanied by lewd gestures while some men have even had the audacity to reach out and grab my arm, as if touching a stranger is a completely normal and ok.
The crazy part is, it doesn’t even really matter what I look like. I could be showered with my hair down and wearing full makeup or bare-faced and pony-tailed, in a skirt suit or a turtleneck and baggy jeans, in high heels or flats, or even a potato sack for that matter. The result is the same. I am wading, unprotected, through a sea of unsolicited negative attention.
Frustrated, I wonder what makes men think they can treat women this way. What gives them the right? Then I look up and see an advertisement of a model in a bra and underwear. Oh yes, I think to myself, that’s what.
Women are continually objectified in advertisements, movies, television shows, and magazines. Often they are shown wearing hardly any clothes. Other times they aren’t even shown as whole women. Instead their bodies are chopped into parts: midriff here, cleavage there, legs all over the place. It’s no wonder men do the same thing on the street, verbally dissecting me into nothing but a “nice rack” or “hot ass.” We are socialized to believe that women exist not as individuals with thoughts, feelings, dreams, talents, and aspirations, but solely as bodies. And that’s where the danger starts.
So how do we fight back against this? Should I say something to the men who objectify me? Should I say something to the advertisement and entertainment industries? Or should I say something to the millions of women and girls that are subjected to negative attention from onlookers on a daily basis simply for walking down the street?
I think I’ll choose option number three.
As I approach the door to my building a man who’s just walked out of a neighboring deli looks me up and down and blurts out “hot legs.â€
Great, thanks, I think as the door closes behind me. So I’m a set of legs. I’m not a human being off to work in an attempt to save women and girls from a lifetime of objectification or anything. –A.D.
January 14th, 2007
Watch this Dove Campaign for Real Beauty ad and see if it doesn’t change your perspective.
Continue Reading January 11th, 2007
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