Years ago at an agency that's been long out of business, a Creative Director, who was as burnt out and grey as the long ash which tipped the cigarette that always hung from his lip, said the following to me, the aspiring young art director:
"It doesn't matter what you're selling. Beer, cars or Peanut butter. No matter what it is you're actually selling sex. The only reason people buy stuff is from thinking it will give them something better, and most of the time they think it'll give them better sex."
A hell of a statement that's always stuck with me, not only because of it's obvious offensive sexism, but for it being such a 30,000 ft view of the ad industry's crazy mindset.
Long story short, your old paper may not been that far off in its insight.
My favourite phrase of all time comes from, believe it or not, an ad for a maker of glass vases. That the company's name was Orefors was dubious enough, but to use the slogan " Every night when my husband comes home my Orefors is waiting for him" was surely a step too far.
When I took Third Year Latin as an undergraduate, we spent the first semester working on Ovid's Metamorphoses. If ever there was a writer who loved double and triple entendres, it was Ovid. And he wrote them so elegantly (of course, they were all about sex!).
It's the pseudo-shock of encountering them that keeps them alive, because sex is so primal for the human creature.
One day back when I had a salaried job, the researchers (Jeopardy! fact-finding staffers, verifying and double sourcing the clues) were mildly discussing Greek mythology related to a category, in particular the origin of pan pipes. The story goes: Pan had the hots for a girl, and she ran away from him. She threw herself into a river to escape him and was changed into water reeds. So, he cut the reeds and made his pipes, so she was always with him.
Now everyone on staff knew I was your honest-to-God church going Christian, the staff go-to person for Bible questions, etc. I was also the mythology maven. I'd been working on something else while the discussion was going on. As I walked back to my own office, though, and passed the discussion, I tossed out a quip and had the pleasure of my cohorts getting whiplash to stare at me because of the unexpected joke.
Admittedly this is from a very long time ago but it was a major joke when it came out as a commercial only on radio:
In and Out
In and Out
That’s what life is all about.
All the high school boys thought it was hysterical.
OMG!!!
And that from the fast food joint that puts Bible verses on the bottom of their cups! Heheheh!
Years ago at an agency that's been long out of business, a Creative Director, who was as burnt out and grey as the long ash which tipped the cigarette that always hung from his lip, said the following to me, the aspiring young art director:
"It doesn't matter what you're selling. Beer, cars or Peanut butter. No matter what it is you're actually selling sex. The only reason people buy stuff is from thinking it will give them something better, and most of the time they think it'll give them better sex."
A hell of a statement that's always stuck with me, not only because of it's obvious offensive sexism, but for it being such a 30,000 ft view of the ad industry's crazy mindset.
Long story short, your old paper may not been that far off in its insight.
There was a Burger King advert in the UK, I think about 40 years back?
A male voice loudly proclaimed "Mine's a whopper, mine's a whopper", followed by a female voice observing "I need two hands just to hold that thing."
(Goes off to dig around with Google), Yes it's confirmed:
https://www.luerzersarchive.com/features/tony-malcolm-mcdonalds-v-burger-king/
Talk about a single entendre... Makes Benny Hill look like Alfred Lord Tennyson...
You deserve a break today leads to "Afternoon Delight'
🤪Fun
My favourite phrase of all time comes from, believe it or not, an ad for a maker of glass vases. That the company's name was Orefors was dubious enough, but to use the slogan " Every night when my husband comes home my Orefors is waiting for him" was surely a step too far.
Double entendres are so much fun!
When I took Third Year Latin as an undergraduate, we spent the first semester working on Ovid's Metamorphoses. If ever there was a writer who loved double and triple entendres, it was Ovid. And he wrote them so elegantly (of course, they were all about sex!).
It's the pseudo-shock of encountering them that keeps them alive, because sex is so primal for the human creature.
One day back when I had a salaried job, the researchers (Jeopardy! fact-finding staffers, verifying and double sourcing the clues) were mildly discussing Greek mythology related to a category, in particular the origin of pan pipes. The story goes: Pan had the hots for a girl, and she ran away from him. She threw herself into a river to escape him and was changed into water reeds. So, he cut the reeds and made his pipes, so she was always with him.
Now everyone on staff knew I was your honest-to-God church going Christian, the staff go-to person for Bible questions, etc. I was also the mythology maven. I'd been working on something else while the discussion was going on. As I walked back to my own office, though, and passed the discussion, I tossed out a quip and had the pleasure of my cohorts getting whiplash to stare at me because of the unexpected joke.
Said I, "Talk about blow jobs!"
(Naughty, naughty! Heh.)
HAHA! great post!