Eight people have complained about this ad, which features Philip Glenister channelling DCI Gene Hunt, because he makes a reference to a ‘girl prancing around in her underwear’.
It may have escaped the attention of these viewers, but approximately 80 per cent of all adverts feature girls prancing around in their underwear – particularly Marks & Spencer’s adverts.
It’s one of the overriding features of M&S adverts of late – a coterie of skinny models swanning around in M&S wear.
It’s also a feature of Life on Mars, clearly referenced, which regularly features Hunt making references to tarts, slags and birds and the tits and arses thereon.
I’m a bit baffled as to exactly what people think is offensive about this one. I don’t even think it’s that bad – like I said the other day about the Iceland Xmas advert I can’t really find it in my heart to loathe things that at least reference a pleasant time.
Anyway, here it is. Mind you don’t have a heart attack.
There was a time when the tattoo that beats out at the start of the song didn’t drive men everywhere into a rage.
This was about 18 months ago, when the song by Ernie K. Doe was probably quite good. But now it’s ruined, forever tainted by the association with the idea that make-up is important and there’s some sort of unifying global sisterhood.
It appears on absolutely anything to do with women now. It’s been used by two huge brands – Marks and Spencers and Boots – in ubiquitous advertising.
A number of TV idents have used it. Sky used it to advertise the Women’s Cricket World Cup – a competition so boring that not even the deployment of this awful music could convince anyone to watch it.
It’s now the advertising equivalent of a lazy sub who writes ‘Exclusive!’ at the head of an article rewritten from a press release; a half-arsed attempt to give something rubbish the vaguest lift.
If I were a woman I’d find this patronising, but I can imagine there are plenty of women who’ll lap up these ads. “That’s so like us!” they’ll say to each other, as if it’s something to be proud of.
So, that’s it women. Feminism’s dead. Even post-feminism’s dead. You’re back to being defined by your love of clothes and make-up.
And men everywhere have this godawful song in their heads every time they’re waiting for you to come downstairs.