Sadvertising

We are currently being bombarded with one of the worst television commercials to have ever been created. If I say, “Down, down”, I know you instantly know what I’m talking about. As if the first round of Coles ads with giant red hands pointing at the nether-regions of its staff wasn’t bad enough, now they’ve gone and bastardised Petula Clark’s Downtown to the point it’s a badly-sung, cliché-ridden jingle that is splashed across our screens every five minutes in between programming as sacred as Wimbledon and Home & Away.

My main issues with this advertisement are as follows:

• It’s shit.
• No one in it can actually sing.
• It’s shit.
• If I wanted my attention drawn to the crotches of Coles employees I would go back and work there. They are perverted enough to be able to point this out themselves without the help of a big red hand.
• It’s shit.
• Despite the main claim of the ad being ‘prices are down and staying down’, I am yet to see a real difference at the checkout, unless you count not having to enter a pin or sign when paying with credit on a purchase under $35.
• It’s shit.
• No customer ever reacted by throwing their hands in the air and exclaiming with joy when I handed them a receipt. The ad is so far removed from reality it might as well have claimed to see a UFO.
• Did I mention I think it is shit?

Then, just when you thought is wasn’t bad enough, Woolies enters the race with a sing-a-long ad too, making everyday people who supposedly shop with them stop and say “That’s my Woolies” as someone sings the same phrase in the background.

When will this madness stop? Do the bigwigs of these corporations sit around and think we will be impressed by this propaganda? Do they believe we are simple enough to be captivated by second-rate singing and dancing, and will therefore be simple enough to believe they actually care some of us are living paycheck to paycheck and are relying on their prices staying down? And if it really is ‘My Woolies’, why is it when I enter a store I am confronted by a creepy cutout of Margaret Fulton purporting the same sentiment? If something is mine, I want it to be mine and mine only. Is that too much to ask?

Picture, if you will, an episode of Mad Men, in which Don Draper and his band of merry advertising men land the Coles account. Through the haze of smoke and the scent of hard liquor emerges an idea for an ad campaign. Instead of innuendo and double entendres, it is all class. Grocery shopping is the new black. It’s a must-have experience, focused on excellent customer service and impeccably presented fresh produce departments and grocery aisles. It is a pleasure to be in the store, so much so that it doesn’t matter if the prices are down or not, you’re just happy to have the opportunity to access fresh, quality food to nourish your family.

But then Draper has another idea. Based on the ever-present theme of his manhood and conquests, they will run a campaign in which a giant red hand points to genitals and insinuates oral sex. They go with the second idea, which surely people will find funny because humour is an effective way to communicate while also distracting from your shortcomings. Pun intended. I don’t know about you but now I am ready to unload my hard-earned cash without a second thought. Take me to where it all goes down.

“Look for the big red hand Australia”, the lead ‘singer’ implores us as the sun sets on the Coles advertisement. Maybe I will lady. And when I find it, I’ll be using it to give you one big slap across the face.