Consuming Representations of Childhood, Family and Community in Advertising

 

The following advertisements are all mere representations of our childhood, our potential families and beloved communities, but with a strange twist. They seek to assure consumers that the products these signs and signifiers represent will help them attain the state of being in the representation that is portrayed. In other words, the ads are actually selling us two things simultaneously -- a product and an ideology.

 

You will soon see some of the many ways that advertisements are framed against a historical and nostalgic backdrop, like Donna Reed for instance, in order to reassure us that the anxieties relating to our childhood, families and communities can be forgotten in the midst of the free market. Condensing our sense of collective memory into brief historical memories, these ads select random segments from some of society's most sacred realms. In an age where nothing is sacred, this shouldn't cause much reason for any alarm.

 

We believe that the longer our media-based culture continues to play with fire, it will inevitably get burned. Robbing these moments of their true historical and personal contexts and using them as puppets speaking for a product, advertisements have joined in the destruction of the sanctity of the past in order to build a hyper-real future. If this trend in advertising continues and our memories and nostalgia of the past are re-positioned to signify something new, we may soon find ourselves lost in a search to construct meaning out of the rubble of what once was.


The Toyota driver was once a Pony Rider

The use of home movies, snapshots and polaroids in advertisements often romanticizes our childhood and families by associating these memories with the love for a product. This ad exemplifies this technique in a few obvious ways. This snapshot recalls a very real, pervasive and odd obsession that children have for horses. Referred to as 'horsies' or 'ponies' by parents, this obsession is constantly reinforced during childhood. Parents and other children condition our little ones to love horses in the same way that the snapshot conditions us to recall this fascination and satiate our equestrian yearnings with a purchase. Our dated lust for horsepower is represented as something almost hereditary and inherent to our lives as children. As adults, the fear of losing our childhood innocence and longing for a good, fast and powerful ride is overcome by the purchase of an automobile. Toyota claims that this fascination for horsepower goes 'way back', implying a certain naturalness for adventure. Considering that cars are only a recent invention, this can not be true. The humor associated with this snapshot is directly related to our assumed emotional attachment to the toys of our childhood, and like good little bourgeois kiddies, we eat it up gleefully. The technique of dating the snapshot is one which helps to identify with a specific age group of consumers, fortifying the advertisement's effectiveness by aiming toward a niche market. Lost in all this confusion is the child's image, perhaps authentic, perhaps replicated. The moment in this child's life no longer signifies anything about the child, except the child as the potential spectator-owner of a horse who is now all grown up and still seeking out that same horsepower.


The Body Shop's Juvenile Catharsis

 

This comical portrayal of childhood is infested with feelings of the gleefulness and bliss that every little girl can discover on a fine spring day. Rather appropriate for a corporation who claims to be "An 'attitude' company", this advertisement asks women to recall an attitude of discovery, but associates it with beauty. The blanket statement "I sure am beautiful" supported by a sequence of "la's" carries a carefree attitude about beauty that The Body Shop has always attempted to support. As a self-proclaimed progressive corporation that is so hip it even uses recycled materials, The Body Shop a new retro-chic model to represent their products and attitudes: Eudora. Poor Eudora merrily rides along on her previously and, thanks to our space-age retro fascination), currently fashionable bicycle, enjoying her youth while she still can. Similar to our culture's connection to 'kitschy' items, The Body Shop seeks to identify with the strong and imagined feelings of Eudora's springtime epiphany. In her discussion of kitsch, Megalopolis author Celeste Olaquiaga points out that a gap exists between the meaning of a real and simulated experience.

In this advertisement it is pretty clear that this gap separates Eudora from the original meaning of her bike ride, and fills her thoughts with language intended to support the sales of The Body Shop. This gap is further widened by what Olaquiaga refers to as

...the retro 1950s and 1960s fashion, in which the desire for intensity and the recirculation of a heavily iconographic imagery unite to resolve the spatial confusion of contemporary identity in its own terms. (Olaquiaga, 23)

Few moments can be more intense than an epiphany, yet this intensity is lost in the trite words strewn about the advertisement which continually draw us back to the product being sold.


Lincoln Logs & Carpet

Make a Happy Home

 

This advertisement gives the meaning of Lincoln Logs a facelift while showing us how easily hearth, home and family can come together with the proper floor covering. These toys of yesteryear are likened to building a real home -- something many adults who once played with these toys are now doing or have already done. The idea of the "home coming together" is but one of the many projects in building something even bigger: a family. The anxieties associated with starting a family are simplified and ridiculed by the use of Lincoln Logs to signify the facility with which home come together when you purchase the right carpet. This advertisement coats and covers the foundations of our memory with more than carpet by alluding to the struggle to build and keep a home and family together in an age where cohesiveness is becoming more and more lost. The purchase of TrustMark carpet seeks to insert control and ownership over our homes and families, by securing our anxieties through providing us with a material object. Now all you need to bring your home together is the right carpet, forget about all the blood, sweat, tears and love that were once the pinnacle of a good home.


Tommy Hilfiger's Musky American Dream

 

Tommy Hilfiger's cologne, Tommy, positions its prospective owner as an American- a sign, symbol and ideology filled to the brim with inter-textuality and meaning. As do many of his other products, Tommy Hilfiger's new cologne is associated with the colors and patriotism of the American flag. A "Tommy family" is created around the historical significance and symbolic representation of a sign such as the American flag. Instead of a uniting, (or divisive) meaning attributed to the sign value of the flag, its meaning tries to demonstrate that others have acquired this same attitude, and even have the proper uniforms and perfumes to achieve their American dream. Hopefully, this community is not a real one, although with the recent advent of community togetherness in the advertising messages and shared summer vacations of Saturn car company, can we expect anything different? The American flag conjures up a variety of visions, playing on our collective memory of these patriotic, militarisitc and not-so-democratic moments which are supposed to bring us all together. Perhaps the proliferation of a strong sense of nationalism and collective identity means that our last bastions of community and nationhood will be dependent on what we consume, rather tan who we are. If Tommy Hilfiger keeps up their American campaign, it may not be long before their clothing is required in schools and America reeks of a red, white and blue scented cologne.

 


Have we exhausted our memories of any true meaning in this fast-paced imaged-based consumer culture of ours? With a look at the preceding advertisements, (signifiers of other similar ads), the amount of representation which no longer can speak for itself has become overwhelming. Will advertisements inundate us with a reconstructed past that would even make Donna Reed cringe? I believe that this re-ordering of meaning is both dangerous and intriguing. It is dangerous in the sense that it filters our interpretations of the past through the lens of another, but intriguing due to its encoded layers of meaning that form a truly post-modern pastiche: advertising as we now know it.

**This page is dedicated to the Memory of the 14 Tupac Amaru members whose** **message seems to have been forgotten somewhere along the way.**

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