*Disclaimer: This is by no means intended to offend my beautiful and regular friends who eat Activia on a daily basis. If you work for Activia's marketing/advertising department, feel free to be offended. Jamie Lee Curtis and Linsday Lohan could probably be offended, too.*
I hate the Activia commercials. I hate them with a fiery, red, constipated passion. Sorry Jamie Lee; it’s not necessarily your fault. Although I do wonder how desperate you were for Freak Friday 2 or Another Freaky Friday, or TGIFreaky-Friday, etc. to come out. (I bet Lindsay Lohan would LOVE to magically switch places with somebody, anybody right now—sorry, too much daytime TV is making me meaner). I hate Activia commercials because I think they focus on the wrong thing. It’s the basic argument of form over function. Activia’s marketing team has obviously decided to focus all their attention on the function of Activia rather than the form (taste). Focusing on the function of a product isn’t a problem with me! I’m a logical person, so I enjoy the usefulness of objects. But I don’t enjoy this tactic when the product’s function is to make you poop better.
The Activia commercials have always been bad, but I think they’ve gotten worse. It used to be Jamie Lee Curtis sitting on a couch, telling the world that she couldn’t poop and how Activia changed her life. Then it was Jamie Lee Curtis sitting on a couch with a mother/daughter/granddaughter group telling the world that they couldn’t poop and how Activia changed their lives. But now, it’s the worst ever. Ever. Women around the country have actually taped themselves eating Activia in their homes. They tape themselves for 14 days (because that’s how long it takes Activia to start working…) and the commercials feature the “highlights” of these video diaries. This makes me sad for a few reasons. It means that A.) People are going to the store and buying Activia with plans of going home and taping themselves eating it. They are consciously planning on making a video diary that discusses their regularity…with the world. Everyone has had a BM discussion at some point in their life. (If you haven’t, then lighten up). But usually those conversations take place with your mother, sister, brother, close friends, or family doctor. Not America. B.) This person has friends and family that they see on a regular basis that are also familiar with these commercials. I already can’t handle watching these commercials as an uninvolved party, but it’s so much easier to see a total stranger embarrass them self than it is to see someone you know and care about. I feel bad for the people watching these commercials that can say, “Oh hey, that’s Jeanie from Accounting. What is she doing on TV? Is this a local commerc—oh.” And now they know that Jeanie from Accounting can’t poop. Scratch that. Jeanie from Accounting couldn’t poop, but according to her video diary, she is completely regular now.
There are already enough uncomfortable commercials without the food industry getting involved. Cialis, Viagra, Levitra commercials exist. (Oh my. The spell check on Word recognizes Viagra and even capitalized it for me). Valtrex commercials, with its shiny-happy-herpes-having-people holding hands, are also around. And don’t even get me started on tampon and pad commercials. With tampon and pad commercials you can expect to be uncomfortable. It’s a given, a social norm. I shouldn’t’ feel that same embarrassment while watching a yogurt commercial. I should be able to watch a yogurt commercial with my older brother, father, and grandfather all in the same room without rolling my eyes, changing the subject, squirming in my seat, or making a snarky comment. I’m not saying that Activia’s marketing isn’t effective. It completely is. It’s actually too effective. Because the marketing focuses so much on the function of the yogurt, I’ve heard it referred to as “the poop yogurt.” These commercials are attaching an embarrassing social stigma to the product. If Dannon isn’t careful, people are going to become self-conscious to eat the yogurt in the break-room or lounge. Children everywhere will hunker over and construct fortresses out of their lunchboxes to hide the fact that they are eating “poop yogurt.” (“But Mo-om, why can’t I just take normal yogurt to school like everybody else? Or pudding?”) People will hide it in the bottom of their shopping carts or baskets under some bread because rolling through the store with your Activia supply is going to be like rolling through the store with a cartload of Ex-Lax. And just in case you forget the function of your yogurt, there is a nice little reminder on each package: a yellow arrow pointing down. (Why not just use a brown arrow, or a toilet, or a turd). These commercials must be stopped! If Dannon continues down this slippery-slope, the connotation of yogurt as we know it could change! And doesn't anybody else feel like Bifidus Regularis is entirely made up? "I dub thee Bifidus Regularis." I'm not a scientist, but...
By the way, I have it on good authority that drinking a 6-pack of Schlitz and eating an entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos within 2 hours—you can take your judgment somewhere else—has basically the same effect as eating Activia for 14 days. It’s cheaper and faster, the American way, so why hasn’t that caught on? Maybe I could pitch it to Jamie Lee…
I hate the Activia commercials. I hate them with a fiery, red, constipated passion. Sorry Jamie Lee; it’s not necessarily your fault. Although I do wonder how desperate you were for Freak Friday 2 or Another Freaky Friday, or TGIFreaky-Friday, etc. to come out. (I bet Lindsay Lohan would LOVE to magically switch places with somebody, anybody right now—sorry, too much daytime TV is making me meaner). I hate Activia commercials because I think they focus on the wrong thing. It’s the basic argument of form over function. Activia’s marketing team has obviously decided to focus all their attention on the function of Activia rather than the form (taste). Focusing on the function of a product isn’t a problem with me! I’m a logical person, so I enjoy the usefulness of objects. But I don’t enjoy this tactic when the product’s function is to make you poop better.
The Activia commercials have always been bad, but I think they’ve gotten worse. It used to be Jamie Lee Curtis sitting on a couch, telling the world that she couldn’t poop and how Activia changed her life. Then it was Jamie Lee Curtis sitting on a couch with a mother/daughter/granddaughter group telling the world that they couldn’t poop and how Activia changed their lives. But now, it’s the worst ever. Ever. Women around the country have actually taped themselves eating Activia in their homes. They tape themselves for 14 days (because that’s how long it takes Activia to start working…) and the commercials feature the “highlights” of these video diaries. This makes me sad for a few reasons. It means that A.) People are going to the store and buying Activia with plans of going home and taping themselves eating it. They are consciously planning on making a video diary that discusses their regularity…with the world. Everyone has had a BM discussion at some point in their life. (If you haven’t, then lighten up). But usually those conversations take place with your mother, sister, brother, close friends, or family doctor. Not America. B.) This person has friends and family that they see on a regular basis that are also familiar with these commercials. I already can’t handle watching these commercials as an uninvolved party, but it’s so much easier to see a total stranger embarrass them self than it is to see someone you know and care about. I feel bad for the people watching these commercials that can say, “Oh hey, that’s Jeanie from Accounting. What is she doing on TV? Is this a local commerc—oh.” And now they know that Jeanie from Accounting can’t poop. Scratch that. Jeanie from Accounting couldn’t poop, but according to her video diary, she is completely regular now.
There are already enough uncomfortable commercials without the food industry getting involved. Cialis, Viagra, Levitra commercials exist. (Oh my. The spell check on Word recognizes Viagra and even capitalized it for me). Valtrex commercials, with its shiny-happy-herpes-having-people holding hands, are also around. And don’t even get me started on tampon and pad commercials. With tampon and pad commercials you can expect to be uncomfortable. It’s a given, a social norm. I shouldn’t’ feel that same embarrassment while watching a yogurt commercial. I should be able to watch a yogurt commercial with my older brother, father, and grandfather all in the same room without rolling my eyes, changing the subject, squirming in my seat, or making a snarky comment. I’m not saying that Activia’s marketing isn’t effective. It completely is. It’s actually too effective. Because the marketing focuses so much on the function of the yogurt, I’ve heard it referred to as “the poop yogurt.” These commercials are attaching an embarrassing social stigma to the product. If Dannon isn’t careful, people are going to become self-conscious to eat the yogurt in the break-room or lounge. Children everywhere will hunker over and construct fortresses out of their lunchboxes to hide the fact that they are eating “poop yogurt.” (“But Mo-om, why can’t I just take normal yogurt to school like everybody else? Or pudding?”) People will hide it in the bottom of their shopping carts or baskets under some bread because rolling through the store with your Activia supply is going to be like rolling through the store with a cartload of Ex-Lax. And just in case you forget the function of your yogurt, there is a nice little reminder on each package: a yellow arrow pointing down. (Why not just use a brown arrow, or a toilet, or a turd). These commercials must be stopped! If Dannon continues down this slippery-slope, the connotation of yogurt as we know it could change! And doesn't anybody else feel like Bifidus Regularis is entirely made up? "I dub thee Bifidus Regularis." I'm not a scientist, but...
By the way, I have it on good authority that drinking a 6-pack of Schlitz and eating an entire bag of Cool Ranch Doritos within 2 hours—you can take your judgment somewhere else—has basically the same effect as eating Activia for 14 days. It’s cheaper and faster, the American way, so why hasn’t that caught on? Maybe I could pitch it to Jamie Lee…
amy. you kill me :) in a good way of course.
ReplyDeletetotally agree. on all of it.
Haha, slippery slope! ...I'm 12.
ReplyDelete