http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYBHhw1GnR0
I've been watching a lot of Bravo, due to my inappropriate West Wing fondness. Although, I nearly flew into a spittle-heaving rage the other day when Bravo decided to run the first half of the assassination attempt episode, only to segue into their Stupid Television No One (And By No One, I Am Mispronouncing I) Cares About Marathon, without showing the second part!!! Doofuses.
Anyway, if you spend any amount of time at home watching Bravo during the early morning hours, you will see this commercial. Endlessly. It really makes me think that advertisers think women are pretty stupid.
It's for an IUD (Intrauterine Device) called Mirena. I'm sure it's a fine product, and I have no objections to birth control of any sort. In fact, if truth be hold, I have less of an objection to birth control than I have to children. The commercial shows a cheerful redhead with a husband and three adorable boys living in a huge house. (which you'd have to). (And which, in the current economy, is probably worth 43 cents plus a slightly used Bazooka Joe wrapper.)
The point of the commercial is to get the 87 women who are home watching it and are wealthy enough to not have to be working to ask their doctors to put in this device so they won't have any more kids, or at least won't have any more kids right now. Which is fine, I maintain.
What has bothered me about the commercial, and has bothered me more and more ever since I saw it the first time, is right at the 0:05 mark on the video. While intoning her milestones, in a cutesy little voice, she lists, "...Coach soccer..."
WHILE WEARING A SOCCER UNIFORM.
Soccer coaches don't wear soccer uniforms.
Of all the things that could bother you about it...
ReplyDeleteTHAT part did.
*Shakes Head*
Well, it's like that thing caught in your teeth that you don't notice, except once you HAVE noticed, you can't think about anything else?
ReplyDeleteIt's like that.
I mean, it's a commercial-so it's dumbed down, idealistic, aspirational, all that-makes you feel bad about yourself because you don't have a perfect, fenced in life like she does, where you can say, "Hey, honey. You know what would be fun? Let's have a baby!" She is in fantastic shape, of course, after having four children, and the child they show at the end is a lot closer to 1 than to birth. Patently unrealistic.
I get all that.
But now that I've seen the uniform, that's all I see.
If I were a healthy person, I wouldn't be here blogging, I readily admit that.