For an industry that is supposedly meant to be ahead of the zeitgeist, advertisers have a distinctly outdated viewpoint of human beings. Women are tawdry bags of imperfections that are in need of medical and cosmetic improvements, while men are serial sleazebags in search of the next commitment free lay. From the battling hoardes of early-morning shoppers who will willingly tear the jugular out of another female in order to get the new Chanel No.9, to the AIDS carrying ‘Mickey’ from the universally detested Head and Shoulders advert, they seem hell-bent on convincing us to be impressed by our most outdated stereotypes.
Take this latest advert from Tesco Direct. It’s clearly meant to be classy and sophisticated, but it comes across as a detestable 30 second remake of Alfie. A charmless date rapist, played by a man who is apparently a famous TV actor, tries to seduce an ex-Eastender by having his house fitted with budget furnishing… and she’s impressed by him.
Not only does it present men as egocentric wannabe lotharios, but it also offers up a viewpoint of women as obtainable when presented with the right combination of material possessions. Big fridge-freezer? Check. Nice new oven? Check. Remotely controlled faux-fireplace – surely the epitome of pseudo middle-class chintz? Check. The only thing they’re missing is the Tesco own brand Rohypnol he slips into her drink when his carefully balanced check list fails to get his dick sucked.
I’m confused as to what Tesco thought they were saying by commissioning this piece of instructional sleaze. Is our main character so desperate to nail this cock-tease of a cliche that he’s prepared to give it a shot while the delivery men are still in the house? “Don’t mind the workmen, love, now about getting your tits out…?” Is she so classy that she finds his ignoring of the proletariat boiler suits around them sexy? “Ooooh, I just love the way you pretend that those dirty little men don’t exist, now crank up the fake fireplace.”
Come to think of it, what woman in this world would be impressed by a guy who’s fitted his entire house with furnishings from Tesco? Ikea may have made mass-produced designer house furniture fashionable, but at least they suggest you mix and match to create your own style… Our deluded Don Juan character has simply let the biggest supermarket chain in the country decide what his furnishings should be. Character, style, a personal touch – all have been jetisoned in favour of an atypical image of middle-class success. They can worry about what looks good in his home while he gets on with the important business of getting his leg over with some dodgy, out-of-work, easily impressed skank.
While this advert is filled with horribly sex-pesty behaviour, my favourite moment is at 21 seconds in when our consumerismly impressed couple have to do a deliberate slow walk in order to let the Tesco men roll out the rug in time. It’s a moot point, for sure, but one that I find terribly funny…
*end of football comment*
77 Comments
You just dissed the woman I was in love with (circa 1994).
A plague on your family.
I still think Martine’s a scorcher.
Martine may well be a scorcher, but her character in this advert is a dodgy, out-of-work, easily impressed skank. It’s all about the acting… didn’t she used to be on the West End stage? I thought she was being primed as the next Julie Andrews? What happened there?
Balls to you. You’re meant to be a hotshot, big time, household-name Director and I’m meant to be respected novelist – life doesn’t always turn out the way we’d like so there’s no need to sneer at my BELOVED Martine.
(She’s a bit of a pudding these days, eh?)
Watch the advert again Dave – she ran to fat. As for your question as to what woman would be impressed by a house decked out entirely in stuff from TESCO, well, are you still in Britain? I can think of hundreds and thousands of women who would be impressed by this sort o’ shit. Look around you. See all those cheap Primark Victoria Beckhams wandering around? The ones wearing sunglasses as big as motorcycle visors? Got ‘em? Those women, Dave. Or how’s about watching Trisha? The women on there Dave. Or read back through some previous WWM posts. See the girls writing about how fabulous that boob-mare Jordan is? Those women Dave.
NC – what the fuck does your first sentence mean?
Martine ran to fat SH. To fat! How d’ye like THEM onions?
It was in reply to Dave asking ‘what happened there?’ See above. Dave’s bit. Up there. There!
She’s hardly ‘fat’, you scoundrel.
Napolean… I fear you’re right. It’s just a bit depressing though, isn’t it?
Maybe we can get readers to swing over from the Tesco fan site and defend in bad english their favourite supermarket catalogue.
“tesco is the best. any1 who doesnt think that tesco is awesome is a idiot. i love there fireplaces so shut up about stuff you dont no about.”
I didn’t even know they did furniture.
They should focus on their fruit and veg, it’s all shit.
They keep sending me money off vouchers for TESCO Direct after I made the mistake of doing ONE online shop with ‘em. The buggers.
She is fat.
In comparison to who?
A thin woman.
So the average-sized or normally-proportioned woman doesn’t exist in your world?
What is this? A Dove advert?
Yes. Here’s your white bikini. PUT IT ON.
I’m simply saying that your parameters for describing a ladies weight are as follows, from the idiotic flotsam you typed above:
If a woman is not a thin woman, she is a fat woman.
Idiotic flotsam? So if a woman’s not a thin woman, what does that make her? ‘Average size’ isn’t a medical term bozo. What’s the opposite of thin Dr. S?
‘Thin’ and ‘fat’ are medical terms? A Doctor might use them, I suppose.
Thin is one extreme, and fat is another which is measured in terms of obesity.
Then there are the rest of us, in the middle somewhere. Average folk. I doubt you’ve turned into an adonis since last we met.
You missed a comma before bozo in your last comment, Mr. Punctuation.
Wasn’t necessary, bozo. And no, you’re correct, thin and fat aren’t medical terms, which is why I never said they were. I’m merely asking you to clarify what you think is the opposite of thin?
Oh – did I say they were medical terms? Answer: no. Weirdo.
The comma before ‘bozo’ was necessary – I assume you were addressing me? If not you were talking about ‘medical term bozos’ – I’m not sure what they are.
I just find it funny that people are either fat or thin to you, that there’s no middleground.
I’d argue that thin is thin, and the opposite of fat is skinny… did you take nothing from my first paragraph?
“Women are tawdry bags of imperfections that are in need of medical and cosmetic improvements”
Martine isn’t fat, she’s a healthy looking lady. It just happens that she’s an easily impressed, largely unemployable healthy looking lady.
I know they’re not, which is why I never said they were. But you said this, ‘Thin’ and ‘fat’ are medical terms?’ implying that’s what I’d said, which I didn’t. Right back at ya kiddo.
And it still wasn’t necessary. The mistake I made was not starting ‘bozo’ with a capital letter. That’s my new nickname for you Bozo.
Anyway, at which point did I say people are either thin or fat and that there’s no middle ground? Where? You’re the one that’s set all the parameters here, not me, old son. If you want to decide what I think for me, that’s fair enough. It still doesn’t change the fact I never said anything of the sort.
Fucking nora…
You are the first person who said ‘medical term’ so quite what the fuck you’re on about, I’m not sure.
If you address someone, you put a comma before their name in that instance, Napoleon. Like that. I’m not arsed, but you get so uptight about Piqued’s apostrophes I thought you might like to know how this English business works, Goon.
I’d ignore him SH, he’s been like this all week.
Actually I’m a little worried he’s running a temperature. Go on love, pop off to bed and I’ll bring you up some juice and a biscuit. Wuv oo
You know what I’m on about. You putting words and into my mouth. This whole thing started with your comment here …
‘I’m simply saying that your parameters for describing a ladies weight are as follows, from the idiotic flotsam you typed above:
If a woman is not a thin woman, she is a fat woman.’
… and as I’ve mentioned before, I never said anything of the sort. You can hardly expect me to sit back while you decide my thought processes for me, can you?
As for your comments about my English, I’ll take no bloody lessons from the likes of you, you little whelp. It’s perfectly acceptable to call you ‘Bozo’ in the way I did (obviously, without the capital ‘B’), so stick it up your arse and smoke it.
Oh, and if we are going to start firing grammar shots across our bows, may I remind you that this …
‘I’m simply saying that your parameters for describing a ladies weight …’
… should be written thus …
‘I’m simply saying that your parameters for describing a lady’s weight …’
And you can shove it and all.
Fair point on the apostrophe, GOON.
And yes, your name, ‘Goon’, is a medical term.
I’m in a very bad mood.
And you’ve changed my name to ‘Goon’ I see. Well done.
Took a lot of work, actually.
So why are you in a bad mood?
A PROBLEM AIRED AND SHARED IS A PROBLEM STILL.
Dog’s on his last legs.
Oh shit.
That puts things into perspective a bit…
Sorry to hear that NC
Not really mate. I’ve been in a bit of a stinker anyway. You shouldn’t be defeated purely by me saying ‘Dog’s on his last legs’. That’s like that guy trying to shoe-horn cancer into a discussion to try trumping everyone else. I’m merely pointing out the reason for my malaise – don’t lower your guard!
Fair enough, you fat goon.
That’s better.
Your dog being sick is a separate issue to your ‘abrasive’ comments (which I regard as tongue in cheek btw)
What’s up with him? My folks had a dog and from the age of 8 he would regularly give the impression he was about to cash in his chips, as it turned out he finally got his bone when he was 12
You said ‘malaise’ that’s French that is, Croque Monsieur, Monsieur?
Yes, but ‘malaise’ has been adapted into English in a way that ‘Croque Monsieur’ hasn’t. Because we have the word ’sandwich’ you see? See?
As for my dog, he’s got anything from acute bronchitis to lung cancer. The vet wants to find out for sure, but we’re both slightly worried that the sedation he’d need for an x-ray would polish him off, so it remains a mystery. The upshot is he spends his days wandering around coughing and spluttering, pissing all over the house, farting, puffing ‘n’ wheezing etc. etc. At the moment he’s on steroids, some other stuff that costs £15 for ten tablets (ten!), and they ain’t working very well. He’s 15, so I wouldn’t be surprised to answer the door to find the Reaper sharpening his scythe.
Hey! That’s an exciting comment!
15, fucking hell… He sounds like my mum
If he’s a bad as you describe you might have to risk the x-ray and let fate decide.
(A CM is no sandwich)
It is a sandwich. It’s a fancy sandwich. Bread + filling = sandwich.
Since when did we all get so bloody pithy round ‘ere?
I’m thinking of taking the x-ray risk, yes.
I would concur on the sandwich front. I looked up ‘croque monsieur’ on the internet yesterday and it looked a hell of a lot like a sandwich to me.
It’s actually bread, filling, bread, topping, not a sandwich but I accept your remark on general pithiness / pedantry
NC, I don’t really think you have much choice to be frank
I’ve had millions of them, they’re a form of sandwich. So it’s a sandwich with a topping, so what? It’s still a fucking sandwich.
piqued is correct though looking at his blog I do not like the idea of it with tomato and cucumber. Croque Madam is the same but with an egg on top. A CM is basically 2 cheese and ham toasts , then put on top of each other.
The sandwich IS a British invention, along with Association Football, Rugby and Cricket.
Tomorrow when we play France, have a sandwich to show your colours!!
Oooh you do exaggerate so… Yes, a form of sandwich. But not strictly speaking ‘a sandwich’
Do you mind watching you language please, there are children in here, chilling
Regarding the Tesco direct ad . The bloke has his lighter on hand to light the candles. Does this tell us anything??
Also if you have lit (the rather chi-chi) candlebra (?) why would you keep all the lights on?
Bread, filling, bread (that’s a sandwich), topping (that’s still a sandwich with some topping). My internet research brings up pictures of sandwiches with melted cheese on the top … that’s a sandwich yes? Yes?
My apologies for being initially unfamiliar with the concept of a ‘croque monsieur’, by the way. Swineshead has pointed out on a vastly inferior site to this one that anyone who’s not heard of one is an idiot but, Swineshead, think abaht it lad. It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that someone’s not heard of one of these sandwiches if:
1. They’ve only been through France on their way to Belgium.
2. They don’t eat French sandwiches.
2. They’ve lived in Lincolnshire for many many years.
3. They were under the impression that bread, filling, bread, topping had another word for it other than the universally accepted ’sandwich’.
3. They were under the impression that bread, filling, bread, topping had NO another word for it other than the universally accepted ’sandwich’ … I should have said.
3. They were under the impression that bread, filling, bread, topping had NO OTHER word for it other than the universally accepted ’sandwich’ … I should have said the first and second time.
3. They were under the impression that bread, filling, bread, topping had NO OTHER word for it than the universally accepted ’sandwich’ … I should have said the first and second time and, indeed, the third time.
This is English in ACTION, kids!
So, Piqued, it’s a form of sandwich but not a sandwich.
Right, that’s cleared that up then.
You’ve never stopped the night in France, Napoleon? Any reason why?
Cowardice in the face of the enemy perpertrated between the years 1940 and 1945, mainly. Ho ho! Only joking! Ha ha!
I’ve just never got round to it, Swineshead. I got into an Eastern European frame of mind and got m’self stuck in a rut of post-communist fun ‘n’ games for years ‘n’ years. I was planning on going to Paris, but now I’m not so sure. I like sandwiches, see? I’m not sure how kindly I’d take to ‘forms’ of sandwiches.
SH, you’re correct
That is why I stipulated ‘Croque Monsieur’, I was being specific and making it clear that I wasn’t eating a fucking ham and cheese toasted sandwich, I was eating a Croque Monsieur, which, in addition to being an accurate description of my dinner, requires less words than ‘a fucking ham and cheese toasted sandwich’ making it succinct to boot
In the same way, as pointed out on my (not a vastly inferior, thanks NC ) website I had an Omelette last night as opposed to ‘some eggs what I mixed all up and fried whilst agitating for a minute or two’
I may have a baked dough tonight covered in a tomato sauce with herbs and seasoning topped with mozerella cheese and pepperoni, grilled, and, just to spite you NC, garnished with rocket. Or will I just have A CUNTING PIZZA
I could supply a fuck load of other examples but I’m off out for a fag
Cheese and ham on toast is not a sandwich!
Make 2 cheese and ham on toasts and put one on top of the other = CM.
Across Europe the method of heating bread and the result is called a toasti…France, Holland, Belgium, Germany.
A sandwich is cold and has a filling…named after the Earl of Sandwich who invented this.
Keep everything seperate otherwise we could say that a Pizza is an open toasted sandwich!!
OOOOOOOH – Get him!
Mikey – don’t be silly, we all know a pizza is a savoury cake.
‘some eggs what I mixed all up and fried whilst agitating for a minute or two’
Even when he’s trying to do common talk, he shows his true colours with the word ‘agitating’. Nice try, y’lordship.
And I think you’ll find you were eating a ham and cheese toastie Piqued. Just because you forgot to put the cheese inside, and had to stick it on top as an after-thought, doesn’t stop it being what it is. Which is a sandwich, like.
WWM is imploding over the definition of a snack.
The cheese goes inside and on top NC, have you learned nuffin’?
(Since when has ‘agitating’ been the preserve of the chattering classes?)
Blame Piqued. I wonder what he calls a Chicken Kiev? “I’ll hev a Kiev de Poulet, my man, Bernard Matthew’s’s’s’ finest, if you please.”
Still doesn’t stop it being a sandwich Piqued, you flappy posh sod.
And the word ‘agitating’ isn’t the preserve of the chattering classes – describing mixing eggs up in a pan as ‘agitating’ them is though. Very Nigella.
I forgot to mention Mikey’s comment:
“The sandwich IS a British invention, along with Association Football, Rugby and Cricket.”
And sausages, don’t forget that fact.
I call a Chicken Kiev precisely that; only a cunt would prefix Chicken Kiev with Bernard Matthews salmonella / foot and mouth dealer.
Again, I refer you back to the FACT that it was the swift actions of kindly old Bernard (though admittedly not as kindly since the price hike) that saved us from any outbreak. As a chicken can’t get foot ‘n’ mouth, you can hardly fire that one Bernard’s way. You need Bernard therapy to get over your anti-Bernard feelings. I heartily recommend you sit down in front of Last of the Summer Wine with three Bernard Matthews Chicken Kievs and a ham ‘n’ cheese toastie. Lovely!
Kindly multi millionaire Bernard, I am surprised at you defending him with such vehemence. Having said that I’m not, you resemble the village peasant doffing his cap to the Squire because he didn’t throw you orf his land when your wife died of consumption.
And I’m surprised you get so worked up about him. He’s only a poultry farmer Piqued, calm down son, easy, easy. You’ll do y’self an injury getting all ‘agitated’ like that.
Me get worked up… Pot, kettle etc.,
He’s not just a poultry farmer, he’s a fucking loaded menace to society who can’t fucking speak proper
A bit like you not being able to say ’sandwich’? You and Bernard are two peas in the same pod. You should have sex with Bernard. O’course, Bernard being vastly superior to you in strength, ability to identify what is and isn’t ‘bootiful’, general intellect, and number of Chicken Kievs sold to a grateful British public, you’d have to be the lady in the relationship.
Not a bad idea, I’d stuff my freckle full of organic free-range chicken, the natural goodness would eat through the papery skin of his helm and poison him 2 DETHZ
So you like the idea of being bent over and taught a lesson about food hygiene by a grizzled old turkey farmer do you? You’re a disgrace. I, being a man of taste, would prefer my culinary ‘conversations’ take place with the lovely Nigella.
I’d sacrifice my nipsy for the sake of mankind NC, much like our Lord did when he died on the toliet in Memphis
I always thought Elvis died on the toilet? What’s this ‘toliet’ of which you speak?
The storm has abated now I think, but I couldn’t contribute to this on Friday because I was in Nofuck having sex with Bernard – bootiful. And he didn’t scrimp on the post-coital melted garlic butter massage either, let me tell you.
Martine is gorgeous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That’s why I have her as my background on myspace!
Robert, you’re a steaming great nitwit