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Wrinkles of mass destruction
Men are being targeted by marketing that encourages us to exchange sport for shopping.
The other night I went down to the pub for a pint and a read of my paper after a hard day's graft. Flicking through it, the first image to greet my eye was of a Pearse Brosnan kinda face gimpishly looking at me.
Turns out it was a feature ad for Men's anti-expression wrinkle cream. ‘Ah for fecks sake, they have to be taking the piss!' I thought. Nope, this was for real. An encouragement to grown men to sex up for the opposite sex with this magical ‘long lasting hydration, non-greasy, non-sticky' formula. The two full page ad reads ‘What you think are great lines, she thinks are premature wrinkles'. Gimmie a rest.
I'm in my mid twenties, I work hard, take good care of myself, eat organic foods and get enough rest and exercise and feel fairly healthy. Whether I'm attractive or not, we'll leave up to my girlfriend and whoever else might be bothered.
The wrinkle war
I really don't need L'Oreal interrupting my pint of beer to and trying to get me worried about wrinkles and to start using cosmetics to feel like more of a man. I have enough other stuff to be worried about without trying to defy nature in a wrinkle war. What's so wrong with ‘expression lines' anyway?
L'Oreal are just the latest bizarre actors in the current male image revolution. More and more you see moisturizers, creams, sprays, treatments and make-up being advertised. What's more, men, presumably inspired by the likes of David Beckham, are using them more and more.
I'm not saying that it's all bad and I'm not complaining just because I occasionally enjoy a good scruffy phase. It's definitely about time that we fellas cleaned up our act a little but that doesn't mean we should stop being men and venture towards the unending image torture that so many women have fallen victim to.
The image gods
Celebrities, models and in your face advertising aren't there to make us feel good about ourselves. They exist to present us with alternative versions of reality that encourage us to feel the need to purchase their products that promise happiness and sex appeal. So while we spend our way to sexyness, the companies are laughing all the way to the bank.
For years we've watched how the image gods have incessantly advertised (animal tested) creams and cures to the women of the world. Look how many women have become caught up in a cycle of comparing, worrying, dieting and debt to enter the vogue version of image and happiness.
Flakey fellas
So now it's the fellas turn to be targeted by perverse marketing that encourages us to exchange sport for shopping and become a flakey little prince in the process. I feel the anti-expression war is set to esculate until we rid the world of those damn wrinkles of mass destruction and need a new product to get them
back again.
In the meantime, I'll continue to express myself, develop expression lines and maybe throw in some facial stubble into the bargain. Let's hope me and me wrinkles don't end up on the scrap heap while the beauty boys take over the show.
