Caviar Emptor
What do Bedouins, bad neighborhoods and beachfront
apartments with beach-less views have in common?
“They’re
all things you are writing about for no money!”
Ah, the wife.
She’s right. But more importantly, they are
all alluded to in our eternally-amusing Wall Street Journal Magazine April 2014 edition, in a string
of advertisements so smooth and slick you’d think you were being hit on by
Barack Obama’s teleprompter.
No Bedouins are seen in this magazine. No bad neighborhoods, no beach-less views. WSJ prefers images of diamond prenuptual agreement rings and confused
metrosexuals sitting in the dark – images that obfuscate the truth of what’s
being sold in these advertisements.
I say what could be more fun than to
un-obfuscate the truth?
“How
about un-obfuscating our mortgage situation?!”
WSJ’s
Ad Hominem: a 12-step deconstruction
2. Louis Vuitton shows us ‘The Spirit of Travel’ (according
to the inspirational caption). This particular brand of ‘spirit’ explains the pissed-off look on the woman’s face. Those stupid Bedouins, they walk around with their whole house on a
couple of camels but they stare at me like none of them has ever seen a
suitcase before. And this is barely one closet’s worth of clothing. Ignorant
animals.
3. Why is the woman in the Celine ad
laughing? God, you people think some
woman is going to want a coat with two huge holes where her breasts are? But hey, I'll take the two grand an hour. The
next page features shoes sporting this two-word bit of encouragement: “Love Life”.
I guess if you can make money off breast-baring coats you can say life is good.
Stupid, but good.
4.Ermenegildo Zegna, what the hell is
going on your four-panel ad? First, a man standing sideways, glaring at us with
apparent contempt. Very endearing. And what’s with the white bandages on the
cuffs of his sport coat? Haven’t seen anything like it since Napoleon. Next we
get a man with no bandage around his cuff putting his hand on our contemptuous
friend’s shoulder, perhaps in sympathy for his horrendous fashion sense. Intriguing concept Joel but images of a botched
suicide tend to take away from the conversation. Third frame, three hands
resting on an extremely anal-retentive person’s desk. Maybe Rainman works
there. Fourth frame, our scorn-filled doughnut is back, now standing square to the camera, angry as ever that (a) someone is dressing him like
Napoleon or (b) someone just talked him out of his suicidal endeavors.
5. Dolce & Gabbana reaches out to the bored housewife segment of WSJ’s readership by showing off the ostensible benefits of their Red 620 lipstick. A fire engine red to overshadow the worst hair day and make you look every bit the upper-class, middle-aged whore you always believed you could be!
6. Omega boasts that every Apollo astronaut wore their ‘Speedmaster Professional chronographs’ all the way to the dark side of the moon. First of all, what the hell is a chronograph? Second, how can the same people who make these things make the simple mistake of calling one side of the moon dark? Helloooooo, it’s all dark, have you never listened to Pink Floyd?
7. TOD'S must be banking on name recognition because I can’t tell from the picture what they are selling. Clothing? Shoes? A chair? Handbags for metrosexuals? Dim, abandoned office spaces? The unintended effect: wearing or carrying or sitting in Tod creates such ennui in a man that he ends up facing away from a half-naked Scarlett Johansson.
8. Giorgio Armani sunglasses’ “Frames of Life” stars this guy in all black, including his neo-modern samurai hair, standing on some kind of industrial waterfront that could be the murder scene in any movie involving guys whose job is to kill people. Change the working title to “Frames of Death”. What fun!
9. The Royal Mansour of Marrakech, whatever that may be, offers this full-page ad showing a white-gloved hand pinching the brim of one of two crisp white hats like the villain in the first Indiana Jones movie wore. I’ve been to Marrakech. Good luck keeping that white hat white.
10. Citi, the con-artist formerly known as Citibank, spews forth: ‘Why strengthening communities should be a bank’s business.’ In their self-aggrandizing blurb meant to bleed humility: “Developer Jonathan Rose has a vision: Rejuvenate neighborhoods to create affordable and environmentally responsible housing close to jobs, schools, parks, healthcare and mass transit.” This aimed at a readership whose collective money-minded goal has resulted in the methodical destruction of the financial well-being of anyone who gives a shit about affordable housing or the environment. This magazine, remember, is written by people who see fit to admire someone who inherited then couldn’t handle the family fortune while pandering to those who see something venerable in spending $150K on a wall clock. In 2013 Citigroup CEO Michael Corbat made $14.1 million or $17.8 million, depending on your source. I’d say Mr. Corbat is likely less concerned with rejuvenating bad neighborhoods than he is staying as far away from them as he can. Just a guess.
I want to stop because I am about to puke
again after just getting over the nausea induced by that story on Laudomia
Pucci. But I will go on. Because I’d rather puke than stay silent in the face
of this pile of fun and blither. Plus my wife thinks I’m working and keeps
telling the kids to leave me alone for me.
11. Caroline Herrera seems to have found a fashion niche, catering to twins who never quite grew out of their mom dressing them in matching outfits. Today
12. A real estate developer whose name, as far as I can tell, is ‘1’ shows off its apartments at
I should have gotten into marketing
bullshit to the moneyed. It looks so easy – if you can stand the vomit.
“Yeah
and it actually pays the bills!”
Yes, Darling.
“And
stop staring at Scarlett Johansson!”
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