D&G’s Hot Date With Metrosexuality

D&G are cun­ning bas­tards. No won­der they are now a World Power.

No other fash­ion brand bet­ter under­stands the nature of 21st Century desire, where it lives, what it looks like, what it looks good in –and where it’s tak­ing us in the back of a taxi on Saturday night.

This ad for D&G jew­el­ery, cur­rently air­ing in heavy rota­tion on TV and in cinemas across Europe (and caus­ing a bar­rage of com­plaints in some), is dev­il­ishly clever, on so many dif­fer­ent levels — and dev­il­ishly dis­turb­ing. Like a kinky lover, it toys with your expect­a­tions and then, right at the end, when you think you know what it’s about, you slowly real­ise that yes, it’s kind of about that, but actu­ally it’s much more about some­thing else.  Something even more sali­ent and unset­tling.   Something in fact bey­ond sexu­al­ity.

And strangely hotter.

And if you prefer to focus on the dark-haired lad(s) pouty, sulky lips :

In the midst of this bling­ing self-love-fest, I can’t help but quote (no gag reflex) from my own dev­il­isly clever, diabol­ic­ally proph­etic, 2002 essay ‘Meet the met­ro­sexual’:

The typ­ical met­ro­sexual is a young man with money to spend, liv­ing in or within easy reach of a met­ro­polis — because that’s where all the best shops, clubs, gyms and hairdress­ers are. He might be offi­cially gay, straight or bisexual, but this is utterly imma­ter­ial because he has clearly taken him­self as his own love object and pleas­ure as his sexual pref­er­ence. Particular pro­fes­sions, such as mod­el­ling, wait­ing tables, media, pop music and, nowadays, sport, seem to attract them but, truth be told, like male van­ity products and herpes, they’re pretty much everywhere.“‘

I think I should give myself a high-fashion snog.

Oh, I already have.