Swing it Around Like You’re in a TV Commercial’

 “Swing it around like you’re in a TV commercial.”

I like this spunky new hair gel ‘Now can be amaz­ing’ ad from Lynx, cur­rently air­ing in Australia. Especially since it’s the per­fect anti­dote to the ball-shrivelling dreary para­noia of ads like this.

In fact, it’s prob­ably my favour­ite ad since Philips/Norelco ‘I’d F*ck Me’ where a young man play­fully chats him­self up in front of the bath­room mir­ror. Like the Philips ad this one isn’t afraid of its own shadow, and instead of mak­ing apo­lo­gies just embraces and cel­eb­rates male beauty and van­ity — and the spirit mak­ing the most of it while you have it.

More than this, it’s an ad which encour­ages young men to be any­thing that they want to be — to be ‘amaz­ing’. In much the same way that young women have been encour­aged for some time.

Hence the ‘Kiss the hot­test girl — or the hot­test boy’ moment. This is not, as has been pro­claimed by gay blogs, a ‘gay kiss’ so much as a bi-curious one, since it’s the same guy kiss­ing the girl and then the boy. Which is in keep­ing with what we might term the James Dean ethic of the ad — don’t go through life with ‘one hand tied behind your back’. Especially if it’s your best hand.

This is par­tic­u­larly impress­ive com­ing from Lynx (known as Axe in the US), a brand which is not usu­ally asso­ci­ated with pro­gress­ive advert­ising and in fact often asso­ci­ated instead with a hys­ter­ical het­ero­sexu­al­ity: ‘I only smell nice coz it attracts women and that proves I’m not gay, OK?’. (Though there have been sort-of excep­tions, such as this Axe ad star­ring Ben Affleck back in 2007.)

But then, I told Lynx all about their hys­ter­ical het­ero­sexu­al­ity and how dated it was in a world in which young men take male van­ity and self care for gran­ted — and aspire to be everything - when they con­tac­ted me last sum­mer ask­ing for my input into their re-branding. I’d com­pletely for­got­ten about this con­sulta­tion when I saw the ad, and just thought it was cool. I don’t know for sure whether my cri­tique made it into the brief for this ad, but it seems quite pos­sible I may have been admir­ing my own reflection.

Though being hon­est, I’m not entirely sure he’s really made the most of his hair with that bird’s nest look.…

Stripping Down the Male Body

Disability char­ity Scope have been air­ing a cheeky ad this sum­mer designed to encour­age people to donate clothes. It’s a funny trib­ute to the iconic Levis ‘Laundrette’ ad of 1985 and fea­tures a very studly 24-year-old model and per­sonal fit­ness trainer Jack Eyers in the Nick Kamen role. And boy, does he fill it.

Instead of strip­ping off to wash his clothes, Eyers denudes him­self to donate to the cause. As he gets down to his white box­ers we sud­denly get a close-up on his hi-tech pros­thetic leg, which has remained hid­den until now. In terms of the way the ad is shot and struc­tured his pros­thesis is basic­ally his penis. It becomes another way of ‘strip­ping down’ and ‘reveal­ing’ the male body. Of sig­nalling both tough­ness and vul­ner­ab­il­ity, passiv­ity and activ­ity, loss and pos­ses­sion at the same time.

Jack Eyers kink

And Eyers isn’t shy about it. His pros­thesis is, as he says in an inter­est­ing inter­view with the Telegraph’s Theo Merz here, some­thing he likes to show off rather than hide because it looks ‘pretty cool’. It also doesn’t neces­sar­ily harm his employ­ment pro­spects in an industry wak­ing up to both the eye-catching poten­tial and, para­dox­ic­ally, the ‘nor­mal­ness’ of dis­ab­il­ity. (You might also want to check out Theo Merz’s exped­i­tion to Newcastle in search of the sporno­sexual here - in which he dis­cov­ers the man some Telegraph read­ers would like to pre­tend doesn’t exist is ter­ri­fy­ingly, ab-tauteningly real.)

Alex Minksy

Even less shy is US Marine vet turned under­wear model Alex Minsky, who has been gar­ner­ing a lot of well-deserved atten­tion for his saucy shoots — and most par­tic­u­larly for the way, with his body art, sculp­ted muscles, styled facial and head hair, he has totally aes­thet­i­cised him­self, pros­thesis and all. He’s also a model who clearly isn’t afraid to become a form of per­form­ance art. Splendidly kinky per­form­ance art. (Some naked selfies were leaked earlier this year — which only served to, err, enhance his reputation.)

Alex Minsky pressup

Perhaps part of the appeal of the buff, sexu­al­ised chap with pros­thetic limb(s) is not just the ‘inspir­a­tional story’, but also the fantasy of total con­trol over the body — even after some­thing as trau­mat­ising as ampu­ta­tion. And of course the hi-tech, fas­cin­at­ing pros­thesis that seems to bring ‘bionic’ powers blends with the cyborg nature of sporno­sexu­al­ity itself — a bod­ily mer­ging with tech­no­logy, in which the body is ‘machine tooled’ into some­thing more excit­ing by nutri­tional and med­ical sci­ence, Technogym decline presses and Nair for Men. (Though for most this mer­ging is done by upload­ing smart­phone selfies to Facebook.)

Alex-Minsky-9 alex-minsky-modello-senza-gamba-6

I ana­lysed the ‘Laundrette’ ad in Male Impersonators as a ‘sem­inal’ moment in the objec­ti­fic­a­tion of the male body — its ‘looked-at-ness’. Kamen’s strip in the liv­ing rooms of the UK in the mid-1980s (along with sev­eral other ads in that cam­paign, which increas­ingly sought to sub­sti­tute the product for the model’s unshow­able penis) really did mark a moment at which we woke up to the male body as a fully-fledged object of desire. Everyone in the laundrette, male and female, is hav­ing a really good look. And it’s worth men­tion­ing he’s doing his own wash­ing — no ‘little woman’ in his life to do it for him.

Like Top Gun, which was released the fol­low­ing year, ‘Laundrette’ pack­ages this new male nar­ciss­ism as ‘tra­di­tional’ and ‘retro’, when the real 1950s it is notion­ally loc­ated in con­fined this kind of fare to under­ground gay mags like AMG — cer­tainly not prime-time TV.

Thirty years on we’re all still hav­ing a really good look. So much so that we require much more visual stim­u­la­tion. Our gaze is more demand­ing, more pen­et­rat­ing. Back then Kamen’s body was pantingly-described as ‘hunky’, but now his slim, svelte body looks not rather coy in com­par­ison to today’s ripped, pumped, inked and sexed-up spornos, with or without gleam­ing, well-oiled pros­thetic limbs.

Not to men­tion almost a dif­fer­ent species.


Dan Osborne, the won­der­fully, shame­lessly tarty star of The Only Way is Essex and now beau­ti­fully brazen under­wear model for Bang Lads, pho­to­graphed deli­ciously by Darren Black.

Dan shows us the girth of his Xmas cracker. Or what we’ll be doing after it goes ‘bang’.
Dan, who is clearly a very shy lad, shows us his obliques, his biceps, his tatts and his elbows.

 Write-up by the DM on the shoot here.

Ten Iconic Car Ads

Ten unfor­get­table car ads from the past four dec­ades that tran­scen­ded both cars and advert­ising and came to sym­bol­ise an age


by Mark Simpson

Fiat Strada – ‘Hand Built by Robots’ (1979)

A fact­ory full of robots assembles cars to the strain of Rossini’s Figaro – with nary a soul to be seen.

Today this legendary ad dir­ec­ted by Hugh Hudson seems like slightly dull doc­u­ment­ary, but in 1979 it was thrill­ing Sci-Fi. The grace­ful move­ment of the cars and robots set to clas­sical music seems inspired by the weight­less scene in Kubrick’s 2001 A Space Odyssey (1968). It was also proph­etic – prof­fer­ing a vis­ion of a world without a work­ing class; a world where fickle people are replaced by much more reli­able, much cleverer, much shi­nier, much more obed­i­ent things.

Famously sat­ir­ised by Not The Nine O’Clock News in a sketch that con­tras­ted the British real­ity of over-manned car man­u­fac­tur­ing in the 1970s: ‘Built By Roberts’.

Renault 25 – ‘One of Your Better Decisions’ (1984)

After drop­ping Jasper and his violin off at a leafy prep school a couple dis­cuss their plans to take over the world on the drive back to their coun­try pile, while fid­dling with plastic but­tons on the Renault’s dashboard.

An ad that every­one loved to hate (that woman’s voice; that man’s arrog­ance) but it summed up the go-getting Thatcherite entre­pren­eur­i­al­ism of the early 80s – ‘I’m start­ing my own busi­ness’. It also plays, briefly, with the idea of divorce, which by the 1980s was becom­ing a major theme in people’s lives.

Despite (Margaret) Thatcherism, it’s a ris­ibly sex­ist ad. Rather than dis­cuss life-decisions that ‘con­cern the house, the kids’ – and his car – ‘David’ presents ‘Joanne’ with a fait accom­pli, which she just gushes over: ‘David, that’s fant­astic.’ Essentially she’s the posh ver­sion of the woman in this 1974 Ford Cortina ad:

VW Golf Mk2 – ‘Changes’ (1987)

A Princess Di lookalike (Paula Hamilton) storms out of a mews house, shoves her wed­ding ring through the let­ter­box, hurls her pearls and fur coat – but stops before drop­ping her car keys down the drain. She keeps the car – which turns out to be a Golf. ‘If only everything in life was as reli­able as a Volkswagen’

Directed by David Bailey this is per­haps the defin­it­ive 1980s ad, cap­tur­ing the unabashed mater­i­al­ism and shoulder-padded glam­our of the age – but also the ‘changes’ that Alan Price is singing about (the song was writ­ten for a friend of his going through a divorce). Allied to that, car advert­ising is now recog­nising women’s increas­ing inde­pend­ence – one of the main reas­ons for the rising divorce rates – and appeal­ing to them as drivers rather than passengers.

Like many iconic ads it also proved proph­etic: it wasn’t until some years later that news of Princess Di’s troubled mar­riage reached the public.

Peugeot 405 – ‘Take My Breath Away’ (1988)

A car drives through a field of burn­ing and – unac­count­ably – explod­ing sugar cane, while a Rolexed hand coolly changes gears, all to the power bal­lad strains of Berlin’s ‘Take My Breath Away’.

Today this ‘high concept’ ad looks like a guilt-tripping pub­lic inform­a­tion film about the evils of global warm­ing, but in the 80s it sym­bol­ised per­fectly the after­burner ambi­tion of that fab­ulously psychotic ‘Top Gun’ dec­ade – par­tic­u­larly that of the British advert­ising industry itself, which was a kind of Soho Hollywood, man­u­fac­tur­ing glossy, glam­or­ous 45 second dreams that set Brits aflame with con­sumer lust.

Renault Clio – ‘Papa? Nicole?’ (1991–8)

A haute bour­geois father and his young, svelte daugh­ter sneak and nip around the South of France in their respect­ive Clios, both con­duct­ing ‘secret’, very French, very styl­ish affairs.

Probably the most pop­u­lar UK car advert­ise­ment ever made, run­ning in vari­ous instal­ments for most of the 90s, saw ‘Nicole’ recog­nised by more Britons than the then Prime Minister John Major. It caught the grow­ing yen of the British middle classes for a piece of the Dordogne (or Tuscan) dream. The 1990s were the dec­ade when we learned to ‘stop being so English’ (as the IKEA ad had it) – and become much more con­tin­ental in our aspir­a­tions and mores.

The tra­di­tional chau­vin­ism of car ads is now reced­ing into the dis­tance: Nicole is a single young woman shown driv­ing rather fast down nar­row wind­ing streets – to sow her wild oats.

Audi A4 – ‘Not My Style’ (1994)

A vul­gar squash-playing, loud­mouth yup­pie ste­reo­type test-drives a clev­erly pho­to­graphed car the viewer assumes is a BMW – before he gets out, reveal­ing it’s actu­ally an Audi, and announces: ‘It’s not my style, know what I mean?’.

This ad exploits the early 90s back­lash against/guilt over the vul­gar excesses of 80s mater­i­al­ism, but clev­erly, and some­what hypo­crit­ic­ally, man­ages to asso­ci­ate the Audi brand with the excite­ment of BMW – while mak­ing it clear that Audi drivers are a much bet­ter class of cus­tomer than the people who drive BMWs. Even the dis­dain­ful Audi dealer looks like he’s deal­ing art rather than cars.

The final off-screen mobile phone call, ‘Gabby, tell Charles I’m on me way’, has become a time­less clas­sic end-line.

Peugeot  – ‘Search For the Hero’ (1995)

A long mont­age of heroic, occa­sion­ally arty thoughts, appar­ently those of a square-jawed exec driv­ing the Peugeot, all to the uplift­ing strains of M-People’s ‘Search For the Hero’.

By the mid 1990s the back­lash against the pre­vi­ous decade’s selfish­ness had pro­duced a yen for vaguely eth­ical, uplift­ing and ‘pro­gress­ive’ car advert­ising – before envir­on­mental issues had become the defin­ing middle-class con­cern. This search for a vaguely eth­ical hero was answered just a couple of years later with the elec­tion of the square-jawed exec Tony Blair. And we know how that turned out.

Honda Accord – ‘The Cog’ (2003)

A Heath-Robinson style con­cat­en­a­tion install­a­tion made entirely of Honda Accord parts, filmed in two con­tinu­ous 60 second takes.

Perhaps the most fam­ous and mem­or­able UK car ad of the 21st Century, ‘The Cog’ got around the prob­lem of increas­ing frag­ment­a­tion of media and audi­ences by becom­ing an ‘how did they do that?’ event – and also by employ­ing ‘vir­al­ity’. In the UK the 120 second ver­sion was first aired dur­ing a com­mer­cial break in ITV’s cov­er­age of 2003 Brazilian Grand Prix and garnered acres of edit­or­ial. In most other mar­kets the cost of such a lengthy TV seg­ment proved pro­hib­it­ively expens­ive and instead the ad was viewed online – quickly going viral.

The Cog’, which appears to have ‘bor­rowed’ heav­ily from the 1987 art film The Way Things Go, cap­tured the grow­ing interest in mod­ern art install­a­tions in the UK: the Tate Modern, Bankside had opened just three years before, prov­ing a ‘run­away’ success.

Skoda Fabia – ‘Cake’ (2007)

An army of work­ers in white hats and over­alls assemble a Hansel and Gretel car entirely out of mar­zipan, sponge and jelly, lub­ric­ated with Golden Syrup.

Another kind of TV art install­a­tion, but a much tastier one, this ad for Fabia cars was snapped up by the British pub­lic, bring­ing as it did together two of their greatest loves: cars and cake. Targeting couples over 35 in gen­eral – and per­haps Jo Brand in par­tic­u­lar – it no doubt benefited from the rise and rise of cook­ing and bak­ing TV shows/food porn in the Noughties.

The ad sug­gests a kind of ‘artisan’ car, lov­ingly assembled by swarms of happy, highly-skilled work­ers – the oppos­ite prom­ise of ‘hand made by robots’, two dec­ades earlier.

Toyota GT86 – ‘The Real Deal’ (2012)

“Can you feel it? Can you feel the thrill of being alive?’ asks a pixel man driv­ing around a driver-assist, vir­tual world. ‘Neither can I. There is no ‘real’ in this town.” He then dis­cov­ers a Toyota GT86, escapes unreal­ity at high speed, pur­sued by heli­copters, crash­ing through the CGI bar­rier into ‘the real’.

The digital, sterile, pos­sibly sex­less future proph­es­ised by ‘Hand built by Robots’ has come true. Much too true for some. This ad for a sports car exploits that Top Gear–ish frus­tra­tion, but like many iconic ads it wants it both ways. On the one hand the irres­ist­ible red-blooded real­ity of this car will save you from the anaemic Uncanny Valley of mod­ern, online life – on the other, it’s sug­gest­ing that it might be almost as excit­ing and fast as the cars that you drive on your Xbox.

Appropriately enough, the ad was banned by the ASA.


Copyright Mark Simpson 2013

 Special thanks to Simon Mason

This art­icle ori­gin­ally appeared on LeasePlan

The Well-Scrubbed Purity of the Past



Well all I can say is that 0.66% is cer­tainly work­ing very hard indeed.

This 1919 ad shows soapy sol­diers bathing on the deck of a troop­ship and being sprayed by a kindly — and gen­er­ously endowed — sailor: ’25 under the hose at one time.’

The dropped-soap theme of this ad seems, at least to our mod­ern, know­ing eye, to have been revis­ited dur­ing the Second World War by this one for Buna bath tow­els.

Tip: DAKrolak

Invictus — Smells Like Team Sporno


This bom­bastic ad for Paco Rabanne’s new fra­grance for men ‘Invictus’, released this Summer, stars Aussie rug­ger bug­ger Nick Youngquest, his muscles, his tatts, his beard, and most of all his obliques. (They’re the diag­onal lines above those track pants with the really worn waist elastic — point­ing to his, ahem, price­less package.)


The world’s paparazzi bathe him in money-shot white flashes as he strolls through a sta­dium show­ing off his oiled, win­ning body with a rather self-satisfied grin. Not that we hold it against Nick, of course. We wish we could hold it against him.

The whole ad with its Olympian motifs seems to be ref­er­en­cing the ‘Gods of the Stadium’, ‘Gods of Football’ sporno vibe — which Nick also appeared in a few years back.

Also with his arms in the air, invit­ing our attentions:


Why Men Love Shoes

‘Metrosexual goes main­stream as men out­spend women on foot­wear’ announced a head­line in the Daily Telegraph last week, deal­ing a death blow to yet another stand-up comedian gendered gen­er­al­isa­tion stand-by.


I have to admit that even metrodaddy was some­what taken aback that men have over­hauled women in the shoe fet­ish­ism depart­ment, and so quickly. But this may just be because I’m over 45 — appar­ently the one age group where men still spend less than women on footwear.

New research from the con­sumer ana­lysis out­fit Mintel shows 25–34 year-old males spent an aver­age of £178 on everything from shoes to train­ers and san­dals in the past year, while women in the same age bracket spent £171. Among 16–24 year-olds the gender ‘reversal’ is even more notice­able, with younger men spend­ing 15 per cent more than women of the same age. Men aged 35–44 also spent more: £157, against £138 for women.

The man from Mintel didn’t mince his words about what this all means:

Richard Cope, the mar­ket research spe­cial­ist Mintel’s prin­ciple [sic] trends ana­lyst, added the shock fig­ures con­firmed that met­ro­sexu­al­ity was now “in the main­stream.” He insisted that younger men than are more wor­ried than ever before about their appear­ance, are tak­ing more time to “groom” and star­ing at the mirror.

He said: “Taking pride in and tak­ing greater con­fid­ence from main­tain­ing a well groomed appear­ance now defines what it is to be ‘a man’ in today’s society.

Rather than being in a minor­ity, men who buy groom­ing products to boost self-esteem or feel more attract­ive are now in the majority.”

He added: “Metrosexuality has suc­cess­fully moved into the mainstream.

We’re see­ing men occupy pre­vi­ously ‘fem­in­ine’ space in the home — spend­ing more time on house­work and par­ent­ing — but also as con­sumers, embra­cing yoga, beauty goods, and the act of shop­ping itself.”

Quite so. Metrosexuality is about men doing and using and being things pre­vi­ously seen as ‘fem­in­ine’. About break­ing free of rigid gender ste­reo­types and becom­ing everything — and buy­ing everything and any­thing that makes you look/feel bet­ter. Why do young men love shoes? For the same reason women do.

But there’s a para­dox here: Now that young men spend more than women on shoes, hair dry­ers, hol­i­day clothes, gym mem­ber­ship and sup­ple­ments — and almost as much as on clothes and cos­met­ics - they are also earn­ing less than women of the same age.

Are they all liv­ing with their mothers?

Menbarrassing Advertising

You may remem­ber I recently blogged about the Brazilian Dove Men+Care sham­poo ad in Brazil. The one with the male office drone trans­formed, to his hor­ror, into a beau­ti­ful Beyonce Drag Queen. Because he used the wrong kind of cos­metic. The kind that doesn’t double Dove’s money.

It had a rather laugh­able mes­sage, but at least it was funny and well made.

These British ads for Dove Men+Care shower gel and deodor­ant cur­rently run­ning on UKTV are dif­fer­ent. They have a laugh­able mes­sage but aren’t funny or well-made. In fact, they are so dull, so grey, so pat­ron­ising and so pain­fully straight act­ing faux-blokey (all the men who use our male beauty products have lots of kids and go to the footie) it’s pos­it­ively men­bar­rass­ing. It’s like an ad scrip­ted by Loaded in 1994.


The ‘joke’ is that men aren’t really human. They’re machinery or breed­ing pets that need a ‘man manual’ — ged­dit? — to main­tain them. They’re objects — in the real, unsexy, inan­im­ate mean­ing of the word. And if men don’t use Dove’s MAN deodor­ant their arms will fall off. Or their balls might be infertile.

Can you ima­gine the out­cry if Dove took this kind of ‘objec­ti­fy­ing’ approach with a beauty product aimed at women? But of course, that wouldn’t hap­pen. Because Dove/Unilever is the gigantic cor­por­a­tion behind the women-are-all-beautiful-and-whole-human-beings (so long as they’re white and young — and buy our products) Campaign for Real Beauty’

Whilst we’re cringing, here’s another men­bar­rass­ing ad. One that man­ages to pat­ron­ise both men and women. It’s for some­thing called Gillette Fusion ProGlide Styler (which hope­fully is less cum­ber­some to use than say), cur­rently air­ing in the US. Although it is also pain­fully straight act­ing, at least there’s more to look at, espe­cially if Kate Upton is your kind of crum­pet — and appar­ently she is plenty of guys’ idea of a hot but­tery treat.

But really, could any­thing be creepier than the way that pimp­ish guy with the shit-eating grin intro­duces the female mod­els telling us what they think about men’s body hair before they do, as if they might oth­er­wise for­get their lines? Is this really what reas­sur­ing het­ero­sexu­al­ity looks like?

Compare it to the refresh­ing clev­erness and dir­ect­ness of the Philips ‘I’d f*ck me’ ad. (OK, OK I’ll admit I fan­cied the male model in the silly sun hat more than Kate Upton.…)

Given the fact that porn is the lin­gua franca of men’s body shav­ing, I think we all know what they mean by ‘edge’.

Tip: DAKrolak

Diet Cock: Coca Cola’s Porno Promo

As an avid voyeur of the media’s mar­ket­ing of the male body I meant to write about this new Diet Coke advert ‘Gardener’ when it first strut­ted its stuff a a month or so back, but it com­pletely slipped my mind — like a chilled, bead­ing soft drink can in a lubed hand. Apologies. Obviously there’s not enough NutraSweet in my bloodstream.

For its 30th anniversary Diet Coke, a sticky, fizzy, calorie-free brown drink aimed at women (Coke Zero is the ‘male’ equi­val­ent — the girly word ‘diet’ replaced by a manly stat­istic), has resur­rec­ted its most mem­or­able cam­paign trope, The Diet Coke Hunk.

Back in the 1990s Diet Coke suc­ceeded in con­nect­ing itself with the emer­gence of female sexual assert­ive­ness — and also of course emer­ging male sub­missive­ness, objec­ti­fic­a­tion and com­modi­fic­a­tion: after all, a ‘hunk’ is a face­less, name­less, if appet­ising thing. In doing so Diet Coke made itself mod­ern and tasty.

Naturally, every­one in the new ad, now set in the brave new, arti­fi­cially sweetened, colour-enhanced met­ro­sexy world that Diet Coke helped usher in, is slim, young and attract­ive. No one here needs to do any­thing as vul­gar as actu­ally diet. Diet Coke is a life­style, a sens­ib­il­ity — cer­tainly not a util­ity or a neces­sity. The women look like they’re tak­ing a break from shoot­ing on loc­a­tion for the British ver­sion of Sex in the City. Or at least, the British ver­sion of Daughters of Sex in the City.

The Hunk is a blandly attract­ive boy with a fash­ion beard — he could eas­ily be a con­test­ant on Take Me Out, and prob­ably has been. As usual in Diet Coke Land The Hunk is labour­ing away in some menial, manual capa­city while the middle class women, relax­ing from a higher vant­age point (remem­ber ‘Diet Coke Break’?), enjoy lit­er­ally look­ing down on him. He cuts the grass; they sit on it. He works; they watch.

When one of them rolls a can of the product down the hill towards the sweat­ing pro­let­arian this seems like a hos­tile act. It could after all have gone into the spin­ning lawn mower blades and caused dam­age and injury. Perhaps even scarred that pretty face!

Instead it comes to rest on the side of The Hunk’s mower. When the thirsty, sweaty chap opens the can it sprays him with the con­tents - in slow, money shot motion. The women from their lofty, grassy vant­age point find this hil­ari­ous and it seems as if this had been the plan all along. Maybe they even shook the can before rolling it down the hill. The minxes.

So now our man of toil is covered in ejac­u­lated stick­i­ness. And our tri­umphant, thor­oughly mod­ern women have had their fun.

However, when he takes his t-shirt off and wrings it out, flash­ing his abs and care­fully flex­ing his large pec­toral muscles, the women’s jaws drop. The look they give The Hunk’s body is one of total, gob-smacked long­ing and very unlady­like lust.

The Hunk seems entirely aware of his effect on the women and in fact this is both his revenge and his reward. He smiles a know­ing smile over his shoulder as he heads off, con­tinu­ing his mow­ing with a spring in his step. Objectification is a kind of gratification.

This moment reminded me of the corny line from Magic Mike: “You have the cock. They don’t.” No won­der the woman who rolled the can down the hill quickly presses her lips to the can in her hand.

 As the short ‘teaser’ below makes por­no­graph­ic­ally clear, with its close ups on undress­ing Hunk’s belt buckle and Voyeur Lady’s lips, Diet Coke is quite shame­lessly, quite expli­citly mar­ket­ing itself as the cal­orie free, car­bon­ated phallus.


Becks’ Bum: Satisfaction or Disappointment?

Becks running

I don’t have much to say about the much-discussed latest Beckham ad for his H&M pants, dir­ec­ted by fel­low LA-loving Brit Guy Ritchie, in which he runs through Beverly Hills in his white slip­pers as the props and scenery con­spire to remove his clothes, Cupid Stunt–like.

Except: Those slip­pers must be really, really snug to stay on.

And: How sweet that Guy Ritchie has gradu­ated from mak­ing homo­phobic gay porn for straight men, such as Lock Stock and Snatch, to mak­ing gay porn for, well, every­one.

OK, while I found the rest of it, like the under­wear itself, fairly for­get­table (espe­cially the Cheever cliché) - and even when he has no lines Becks evid­ently still can’t act to save his dress­ing gown — the final shot is more interesting.

Unlike those eye-poppingly Photoshopped Armani ads the emphasis in this ad com­modi­fy­ing the world’s most fam­ous man’s body seems to be not on his bas­ket but his on his bum.

And what a hungry bum it appears to be.


This shot (reprised twice in the ad) is prob­ably inten­ded to demon­strate the lovely stretchi­ness of the lycra-cotton mix and rub up against our com­mod­ity fet­ish­ism. But it looks like some­thing else is quite stretchy too.

Perhaps the real reason I don’t have much more to say about Beck’s latest is because I’m very dis­trac­ted. By the hil­ari­ous par­ody clip below made by some ‘cheeky’ British Army lads for nowt which has recently been brought to my attention.

Not only does it rep­res­ent the ulti­mate in all those ‘sol­diers act­ing gay’ vids (end­ing up as a semi-simulated gay orgy), it also rep­res­ents a much fun­nier, much met­ro­sex­ier example of ‘self-objectification’ and male exhib­i­tion­ism and ‘passiv­ity’ than Becks and Ritchie’s big budget bore. (

Plus they seem to have got around the packet prob­lem by shame­lessly stuff­ing their crotches.

Basically, it’s just so much more sat­is­fy­ing.

Besides, the squad­die who opens the video — and whose idea the whole thing prob­ably was - has got a bet­ter arse than Becks. He doesn’t need a booty double.

Oh, and his under­wear is much nicer too.

Tip: DAKrolak