So you know those commercials that show groups of well-heeled women, usually at some sleek bar, sipping cocktails while their most glossy-haired companion regales the assembled crowd with the fascinating tale of her brand-new super-exciting birth control?
(Yeah, yeah, I know: this isn't exactly breaking new ground. Best Week Ever covered this, like, eight years ago or something. But bear with me for a moment.)
(Not that any of you should have any content-related expectations at this point.)
Moving along: I'm not claiming that advertising is a particularly accurate reflection of reality, but these ads always seemed especially absurd to me, as if someone had done a find/replace on a Sex and the City script and then tacked on a bunch of medical disclaimers at the end.
Here's a sample of dialogue:
Knowledgeable-looking (i.e., hot but not too hot) brunette: "DRSP is a different type of hormone that may increase potassium. So you shouldn't take Yaz if you have kidney, liver, or adrenal disease."
Exactly.
This isn't to say that the ad campaigns are all bad. They do a really nice job of shaming my reproductive organs, which is great because the feminine hygiene industry has gone all sporty and shame-free these days. And, yes, okay, they make me laugh. Every time. And not just because I have the comedic sophistication of an eleven-year-old. I mean, they're also kind of crazy, right? Because nobody would seriously infomercial their contraception over lunch, at least not in my experience. (Which is that girl-to-girl product pitches are usually limited to face creams and anti-depressants.) Sure, you might have a quick chat about the pros and cons of certain kinds of birth control, but it would be with your best friend and on the phone, not in public and out loud.
Or so I thought.
The other night I went to see Sarah Silverman perform. I'm not usually the type to go see stand-up - I like my comedy like I like humanity: at a safe, televised distance - but I hadn't been out of the house in days, so I braved the crowds and made my way to Caroline's. I have a mostly but not entirely groundless fear of public humiliation, so as soon as the show started I slunk down in my seat, trying my best to look as inconspicuous as possible, just in case one of the comedians decided to start taking shots at the crowd.
It turns out that my anxiety was wholly misplaced.
This is a near-verbatim exchange that I swear-to-god actually happened, near the beginning of Sarah Silverman's set.
Sarah Silverman: So I've been talking to some of my girlfriends about switching birth control --
Woman in Audience, loudly: Seraphim!
Sarah Silverman: I'm sorry?
Woman: You should try Seraphim!
Sarah Silverman: Is that not a pill?
Woman: Yes.
Sarah Silverman: Yes it isn't a pill?
Woman: No.
Sarah Silverman: Yes it is a pill or yes it isn't a pill?
Woman: It is a pill.
Sarah Silverman: So it is a pill?
Woman: Yes, it is a pill.
Sarah Silverman, after a moment: Do you think that we're, like, alone in a room right now?
Sadly, the woman never got the opportunity to inform us of any possible side effects or drug interactions. Which actually really sucks, because then at least I would have been justified in throwing my beer at her head.
Oddly, when I got home, I ran a search for "seraphim birth control" and found nothing. Was the entire thing some sort of brilliant Kaufman-esque subversion? Or am I just kind of deaf? If you're the woman who has no ability to distinguish between advertising and reality, and yet somehow has managed to hold down a job that allows you to buy a 30-dollar ticket to Caroline's, let me know! As I'm sure you already know: I'd just love to hear what you have to say.
sing with us ye seraphim
tags: advertising, contraception, etc.
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6 comments:
God only knows why I'm posting this to your blog but: Jim got this on his GoogleReader (mine? decided to ignore you. Waah.) and was reading it aloud to me, and when he read the name of the pill the woman shouted out, I immediately thought "Sarafem."
Which is Prozac, remarketed when the patent rant out as a drug to treat PMDD instead of just depression -- and definitely not a contraceptive.
So anyway...yeah, those ads get me every time, mostly because I'm always thinking "Why did they drop in the part about the lecturing girl being a doctor right at the end? It would have sold me so much more if she weren't all, "Yeah, I make a gazillion dollars a year poking at women's privates." Then again, this is from the woman who has been poked by countless medical professionals in the last three months alone, and who routinely discusses things like cramping with her dear friend in the presence of both her and my husbands.
Um, yeah. I'll shut up now.
That lady is going to be depressed when she finds out that sarafem isn't a contraceptive.
Or will she? wokka wokka etc.
elizabeth,
i probably should comment under the appropriate entry ("stupidity trap"), but being blogless, i'm not sure how these things work (i.e., is the blogger notified of any new comment, regardless of original posting date?). anyway, just how bad is "freakonomics"? would it be a crime to purchase new (considering that purchases are marketplace votes for more of the same)? i ask because i have to read it for research purposes and can get it for less "new" than on any site hawking a used copy.
Those commercials remind me of the old Summers' Eve ads. "Do you ever get that not so fresh feeling?"
It is so condescending to women. Like the men that make the ads think we hang out in coffee shops to talk about birth control or walk down the beach so we can ask about hygiene.
Holy frijoles! Why did I not find your blog earlier?!?
You are way better than BWE! And I don't even have to be all unlazy-like and get the remote and turn the TV on and then get the _other_ remote to turn the box on and all the hubba-ba-loo that goes along with making the squawk box work. Hallajulah!
I like you. And congrats on the book :)http
What's interesting is that the hygeine/contraception ads are diametrically opposed to commercials about tampons, which seem to try to up the shame quotient with every new installment. Like, "New Tampax Double-Secret! Designed to look like a ballpoint pen so no one will know that your uterine lining sloughs off once a month! You might as well be a man!"
Sigh.
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