Obsession

I've been thinking about my fascination with tv adverts for some time now. I've also been thinking how I would blog about it too. It's not that I'm worried that you'll think I'm weird, because quite frankly, if you don't think I'm a little bit on the odd side, you need to get your head checked.

Most evenings I'm draped on my sofa, cat curled up next to me, channel surfing looking for something, anything that looks vaguely interesting. I have come to engage more with the ads than I do the actual tv programmes. I was slightly concerned about this. I figured since leaving education, my brain has shriveled to the size of a dessicated pea.

It was when I was in Trinidad, curled up on my brother's sofa with a vague sense of dissatisfaction that the reasons began to dawn on me. In Trinidad, most of the television is cable from the States. Readers from North America, my apologies if you are offended. But the advert fare is actually quite boring. Boring and worrying. Bearing in mind I was watching prime time tv, most of the ads (and this is not me over-exaggerating) were about processed foods, cheap restaurants, fast foods or prescription drugs (which are scary). Occasionally, I recognised the beauty product ads, L'Oreal etc.

But by in large, most of the ads are of a very straight-forward presentational format. This is our Product, how much it costs, where you can find it, why you should buy it.

Adverts in the UK generally don't adhere to this format, unless of course it's a JML product. I've had a long think about this and it occured to me that UK adverts pull heavily from conceptual art, especially installation art. There's a surreal element to them which makes them fun and engaging.

For example, I love this Aero ad. Skateboarding through balloons. How fun is that?

This Sainsbury's Homebase ad is straight out of the conceptual art textbooks. Love it for the genuine surprise on the commuters' faces.

And of course this T Mobile ad, which was obviously influenced by this Sound of Music in Antwerp Station.

Having said that, I did find this on the sofa in Trinidad. I really enjoy this ad from Snickers. It just tickled me.

None of these ads have changed my spending habits, but it makes my nightly mong in front of the tv, slightly more entertaining. I am pleased to see the links between art and every day life, even in the pursuit of dirty schekels. After all, it's no fun being a struggling artist.

Dressing to Kill

This conversation happened on the way back from town with Britswitch, and for some reason it has stayed with me. I'm in my mid(ish) 30s and Britswitch is late 20s and we were bemoaning the state of women's dress, or rather the lack thereof. After awhile I realised that I had turned into my grandmother.

My grandmother was born in the last century. She lived through two world wars, a poorly husband and four children. She lived by herself until she decided she'd had enough and in two weeks said her farewells, then died peacefully in her early 90s. She was a woman with impecable manners, amazing compassion and very clear views on the roles of men and women. That both my niece and I bear her name is a testament to the affection in which our family holds her.

She believed that women should dress modestly to the point where she could just about put up with my wearing shorts. She did not approve of nakedness, as she called it, in men or women. My brother or father going about without shirts was cause for tutting, though she did understand that it was necessary for doing manual labour in the hot tropical sun.

And this is where I am suffering from theory inconsistency. See, I believe that the human body is a beautiful thing, whether female or male. I am very much hetrosexual, but I do enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman walking by. But I really don't want to see all of it. At once. Groups of women wearing bikini tops and belts tottering around on chopstick heels, makes me channel my grandmother. At her best/worst she would tut and say 'they are asking for it'.

At the time, fired up by teenage rebellion and feminism I used to argue with her. 'Asking for what?' Women should be able to wear what they want, have a good time with their friends without fear of rape. My grandmother would look at me from the wisdom of her years and change the subject. I still believe this. Absolutely.

But I'm also beginning to believe she was right. There was a report issued by the police recently, I can't remember when or what it was called, but basically it looked into the phenomena of date rape. Contrary to popular belief, the most common drug used in date rape, is alcohol. A shocking percentage of women were so off their heads, they couldn't remember having sex, much less giving consent.

I find this shocking. So much so that Boy has had to put up with me lecturing him: a 'yes' from a drunk woman means 'no', put her down and take her home. He looks across at me, nods and points out he doesn't have a girlfriend. I believe in being a realistic parent. My job is to prepare him for the life that is to come, not the life I wish it would be.

And therein lies the problem that I have with this debate. Rape and sexual abuse are heinious crimes that are impossible to bring to justice (that's another rant for another day), I believe the effects never really wear off. I do wish we lived in a world where women could walk the streets wearing nothing but sparkles, drinking as much as they liked, without fear, but I would rather they were sober and safe.