Now that the chorus of groans from dedicated Aunty viewers has died down, we can appreciate Wil Anderson’s advertising/marketing magazine show The Gruen Transfer for what it is: a funny and often enlightening look at the world of advertising.
Last week’s episode’s “How Do You Sell…” segment featured, as the rather delicate term goes, ‘women’s sanitary products’. The panel’s discussion raised some salient points – do advertisers prey on the “shame” factor in sanitary product ads (i.e. “leakage”)? Yes. Do they create “problems” in order to sell “solutions” (i.e. panty-liners for month-long protection > month-long advertising)? Yes. Are “dumb boyfriend” ads just as sexist as ditzy women ads? Yes – as well as highlighting some of the ridiculous taboos of advertising pads and tampons (no blood! No saying “vagina”!).
It’s fascinating to see these advertising and marketing professionals, in effect, selling out the world of “padvertising” (as Anderson hilariously puts it) and giving away the marketing secrets that are used to keep women shelling out cash in what they note, numerous times, is a $250-million industry (in Australia alone).
You can watch the discussed advertisements on the Gruensite, but here – in exciting two-part format, thanks YouTube’s 10-minutes only rule! – is the discussion in full.
In particular I find the panel’s take on the now infamous U Tampons “beaver” ad particularly interesting – that, in its own funny way, it’s “liberating” in the way it says ‘yes, all women have vaginas, and they’re not scary’ and so on. I mean, the fact that it has to be done via a) a cute/dorky ad and b) using the term “beaver” (I’m sorry, did we become one of the United States of America and I missed the memo?) leaves a little to be desired, but I did view it in a somewhat different and more positive light after hearing their discussion of it.
If you regularly cruise the movie news/gossip sites you will be aware that a G.I. Joe movie is currently in production (no doubt inspired by the success of other toy-cum-movie franchises like Transformers and The Godfather), with Sienna Miller cast as The Baroness.
Thus, you’d expect toy/cartoon nerds to be sulking over whether or not she looks enough like either of the original incarnations of the character, but the film’s own director Stephen Sommers? Here’s what Miller had to say about the creation of her character:
Miller admits she was left slightly stunned when Sommers told her that her small chest had to be given an extra boost so she would look more curvaceous on screen.
She says, “(I wear a) tight black leather outfit. And much bigger boobs.
“They gave me these things that looked like chicken fillets. The director said, ‘I’m gonna be honest, I like girls with big boobs,’ and I don’t have them so we made them bigger.
“At least he’s honest. But I was mildly offended.”
Slightly stunned? Mildly offended? If I were Miller I would’ve employed my newly minted action figure power moves and issued him a swift flying kick to the jugular.
Sexual harassment: it’s okay if you do it through a megaphone from the Director’s chair!
It’s always nice to find another potted definition of feminism for those tiresome occasions when someone whines “But whyyyyy” at you over the din of a dinner party, so I was pleased to stumble upon this post from Sex, Art And Politics‘ Tumbelog:
Feminism is a critical tool which takes as a given that the patriarchy exists and that the patriarchy is one of the many ways by which societal hierarchies are maintained. The patriarchy saps agency from the populace and, as a feminist, one seeks to restore that agency to the people.
Another one to add to the handy cue-cards you carry in your back pocket. Particularly useful for the white hetero males who like to have a cry about being “excluded” from feminist discourse (probably because white hetero males are rarely excluded from anything, so they really feel it, maaan).
We’re big fans of Jezebel, the most un-Gawker of the Gawker stable of websites, where smart young things are flying the feminist flag with a winning combination of self-deprecation, wry humour, hard-hitting story breaks and cute animal pictures. It’s like a map of what we’d like to think the inside of our head looks like, only on the internet. It’s also rarely, if ever, mean-spirited, which makes it all the more a rare island floating in the web sea of snark.
It raises a lot of complex questions about the role of media commentators, who in this instance, are also seen to be blazing a trail as role models. But are they? What are the responsibilities of internet writers beyond their jobs? This was no doubt something they will live to regret, but is having a remarkable chop with words enough to equip you with the savvy needed to navigate the world of traditional media? Liz Weinstead who hosted the Thinking and Drinking session definitely thinks not: “They do not understand the influence they have over the women who read them, nor do they accept any responsibility as role models for young women who are coming of age searching for lifestyles to emulate.”
So it turns out Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban’s daughter’s name, Sunday Rose, was inspired by Heide doyenne and one of Australian art’s most fervent supporters, the late SundayReed; apparently Nicole’s father Dr Antony Kidman had suggested it as a possible name for their baby after reading about Reed and the Heide school, and Nicole and Keith took a shine to it.
Nothing to complain about there – I’ve always liked the Kidmans (as much as you can “like” a family you only read about in the papers and mags) and it’s a much more thoughtful way of naming a child than the “that’s where she was conceived” trend apparently sweeping the celebrity world.
The problem is not the Kidman Urban clan, no – it’s (somewhat predictably) the Daily Telegraph and News.com.au’s treatment of Reed’s story with this gobsmacking piece of captioning and photo editing – art-loving feminists better shield their eyes:
If you can’t read the caption, it says:
Nicole Kidman’s father has solved the mystery behind her baby daughter’s unusual name – it’s inspired by Aussie artist Sidney Nolan’s bohemian muse whose love life was twisted and saucy.
Yes, “twisted and saucy”. Because apparently a married couple who were trusting of each other and conducted polyamorous affairs with each other’s knowledge is “twisted and saucy”. But wait, there’s more! Another “article” provides the “background” on Reed:
Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban will probably hope they have bestowed only Sunday Reed’s name on the child and not her sordid and tumultuous life story.
[...]
Sunday Reed was not averse to extending her patronage beyond the studio and into the bedroom. She enjoyed a menage a trois in which Sidney Nolan and her husband John were the other partners, and her particular affair with Nolan lasted nine years.
“Tumultuous” is probably a fair, if slightly hyperbolic, assessment, but “sordid”?
Do I really need to point out all the ways in which these pieces a) suggest that Nicole needed daddy to pick out her baby’s name, b) imply that Nic and Keith have done their baby wrong by giving her the same name as a “twisted and saucy” art patron, and c) paint Sunday Reed as little more than a shagger with a penchant for artists?
If you read today’s online edition of The Northern Territory News, you could be forgiven for thinking the entire newspaper was being sponsored by a tits-and-arse-blast – this gallery ad for the V8 Supergirls appears on the front page, the news page, the sports page, the entertainment page and the ‘Travel NT’ page:
In my “let’s explore third wave feminism” phase I entered the V8 Supergirls contest and wrote an article on my experiences, and the potted highlights include getting hives from excess fake tanner use, having to keep that sunny smile going while standing under the flight path of an F1-11 going down pit-straight (and not being allowed to wear ear-plugs), and getting changed in a flimsy Porta-Cabin in the middle of a field full of race-fans. Apart from meeting some genuinely interesting women and getting to watch the race for free, it was a pretty awful experience all ’round, the nadir being ushered into the private boxes to circulate like concubines. I distinctly recall the surprised look on the face of the Grid crew of “my” driver (i.e. the driver whose name and number I held on my ‘lollipop’) when I was actually able to discuss motorsport.
Really, stuff like this is hugely alienating to female motorsport fans. Not only that, it perpetuates the idea that the only role for women at the track is as voiceless sex object, when there are in fact women really kicking goals both in the pit crews and behind the wheel (witness Indy 300 winner Danica Patrick).
And, really, NT News, we don’t need to be alerted to your “phwooarr, cop a load of her machinery!” gallery five times when we’re trying to read the actual news.
Nothing makes my blood boil faster than the way the media – and many of the courts – so often handle rape cases. We’ve all seen The Accused, but it’s disheartening how many defense lawyers/judges/defendants will still bring up irrelevant things like what the victim was wearing, or what she’d had to drink before the rape took place. When will they realise that rape is rape, and there are no “grey” areas, no “date rape”, no “marital rape” – just rape?
Take this case from the Northern Territory: a 13-year-old girl was raped and left running through the streets naked until a stranger helped her. But just count how many times the court (and the Northern Territory News) mention her other activities the evening of the attack:
The Northern Territory Supreme Court heard the teen was ‘’significantly” drunk and high on cannabis when she was allegedly sexually assaulted by a 20-year-old man in a Palmerston park last September.
Crown prosecutor Mark Thomas told the jury yesterday the girl ‘’struggled free” of her attacker, and ran semi-naked through a darkened city street for help.
[...]The court heard the drunken girl was distraught.
The alleged attacker has pleaded not guilty to one count of sexual intercourse without consent and the aggravated assault of the girl’s friend.
Mr Thomas said the girl and her 14-year-old friend took a bus to Palmerston where they were invited to a house to drink and smoke cones with friends on September 9.
He said the younger girl later left the house with the defendant to make a phone call from a public phone box about 6.40pm, but her girlfriend tried to stop her because she was too drunk.
That’s four times by my count. I certainly hope Crown Prosecutor Mark Thomas isn’t taking this case where it seems to be going from the evidence presented above.
I was discussing this sort of case/reportage with a friend yesterday, and she reminded me how so often passive language is used in articles about rape. As she said, articles will say things like “drinking too much may make you vulnerable to rape” – when the reality is, only rapists make you vulnerable to rape.
This CNN article raises some of the emerging concerns about adverse reactions to the Gardasil HPV vaccine; some girls and women who get the course of jabs are experiencing side-effects ranging from nausea to, well, death (apparently). The American stats are as follows:
Gardasil has been the subject of 7,802 “adverse event” reports from the time the Food and Drug Administration approved its use two years ago, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Girls and women have blamed the vaccine for causing ailments from nausea to paralysis — even death. Fifteen deaths were reported to the FDA, and 10 were confirmed, but the CDC says none of the 10 were linked to the vaccine. The CDC says it continues to study the reports of illness.
But what bothers me about the piece is not so much the worrying emergence of stories such as Oklahoma’s Jesalee Parsons, 13, who developed Pancreatitis after her shot (which is, to be sure, horrifying), but the way CNN has pitched the piece: its title is “Should Parents Be Worried About HPV Vaccine?”
Fair enough, it’s a question that needs to be asked, as many of Gardasil’s recipients have been young girls. But what about those of us over 18 who went and got the injection ourselves? Are we irrelevant? Do we only need to, as The Simpsons‘ Helen Lovejoy likes to scream, think of the children?
Is anyone else sick of the low-rent ads that continually pop up on Facebook? Just in the last few days my eyes have been assaulted by the following corkers:
So if Facebook ads really do target people based on their profiles, they think I am a fat single sluzza who just can’t keep a man. Is that right, Facebook?
