Crossdressing and advertising

I think advertising is an excellent barometer of society's attitudes. It's not so much about what products people want to buy, but the way in which they are marketed which interests me.

I have seen a lot of television from all over the world, and I think certain patterns can be discerned. The UK, for example, seems to favour understatement ("Try our product. It's actually quite good and you might find you like it."), whereas the US seems to favour overstatement ("Our product will change your LIFE by how good it is!"). Of course, there are many exceptions to this sort of broad statement.

TV ads have 30 seconds to grab your attention, interest you in the product, and burrow into your memory so that the next time you go shopping, the product resurfaces in your mind and you go and buy it. The means by which these goals are achieved is sometimes clever and interesting, and sometimes dull and banal. Agencies seek to associate the product with something attractive: sex, humour, happy children. Advertising jingles are an especially insidious way to drill a brand into your memory: I loathe their irritating jolly little melodies and instrumental stabs.

But a really good ad makes you laugh, think, or sit up in surprise. And it gets progressively harder to do any of those things because all the good ideas (the low-hanging fruit) have all been seen a thousand times before (and some of them, like brand slogans or jingles, have been done to death). It's no suprise to me that there are now awards for good ads, where someone in a tux reads out the results in reverse order from the back of a golden card.

Ads which speak to women about femininity (whether that be clothes, cosmetics, perfume, or even chocolate), speak right to the heart of crossdressers too: that's how I want to look! That's how I want to feel! Where can I get some of that product? (I might explore this a little further in a different post).

Let's take a look at some advertising featuring cross-dressing. Take a look at this one first:

In this UK commercial for kitchen paper, we meet "Brenda" and "Audrey", two blokes in drag, complete with bristly chins and big square hands. I saw a series of such ads on British TV; though they have since stopped, thankfully. (This was the most typical of the series I could find on YouTube). I suppose the ad agency is trying to get a new angle on the "overworked housewife" archetype. You know the one: youngish, pretty but not gorgeous, struggling to keep up with baby poo and toddler dribble and slobbery dogs with dirty paws and sinks which won't drain properly. Perhaps what she really needs is a big hairy man in a dress to do her chores for her.

This sort of ad is just awful for me. The crossdressers here are figures of ridicule, and this sort of sniggering and poking fun at grotesque crossdressers has never been funny; not even in a 1960's cartoon seaside-postcard sort of way. This exact trope is regularly found in the comedy show Little Britain, where "rubbish transvestite Emily" parades around insisting she is a "laydee" and fooling no-one. I cringe when I see this: I stopped watching the show because I found it so distasteful. Little Britain has a lot of very clever comedy (and is very popular), but this just misses the mark for me. However, the shows creators, Matt Lucas and David Walliams, continue their comic crossdressing in other shows such as Come Fly With Me.

So let's move on. When I first saw this ad, I thought it was my worst nightmare come to celluloid:

This ad works in a whole different way from the kitchen paper one. Once again, I saw this on TV in the UK, and found myself bracing myself for the inevitable slew of ridicule. However, it didn't take place. The young, attractive and cool driver of the car sees the drag queens in the queue for the club. We assume his look of surprise is horror at recognising his father (although he probably doesn't dress like that for the office!). However, then we release a collective "phew!" when we realise the driver isn't shocked at his father's appearance; he just wants in the club.

I like this sort of ad. In fairness, the drag queens in the queue are much too gaudy for my personal taste (though I suppose for the advert's purposes, they need to be unmistakeable; a convincing crossdresser wouldn't cut it here at all). On the other hand, the message of the ad ("We live in modern times") carries (for me) a great note of positivity. Okay, it says. Some men like to crossdress. Get over it. Hey, son, bring your friends and we'll all go partying together.

Here is my third offering. This is one I never saw on the screen, but found on the Internet. Take a look:

Very different in tone and theme this time. This advert makes no attempt at humour at all, but still attempts to surprise us. (Whose idea was that awful music?) If you hadn't seen this before, you would know from finding it here that the girl in the dress was really a boy, but in a bit of a breach of the traditional plot element, you might not have spotted that the boy in the suit was really a girl. And the discussion which follows renders all my careful use of pronouns to be a confusing waste of time. I shall do my best.

Interesting though this ad is, it doesn't quite hit the spot for me. The girl in the dress looks amazing. The boy in the suit looks convincing enough to begin with (he seems to have miraculously acquired a bit of makeup by the time he takes his hair down). Both of these actors make me think of the model Andrej Pejic, a man who is so androgynously beautiful he can successfully model both men's and women's clothing on the catwalk, and is in considerable demand to do so (What does that say about our idealised image of women?).

I am sure the ad agency (and I think this ad has a European pedigree) is trying to show that its Italian aperitif may look similar to other drinks, but underneath it is quite different. On the other hand, I am not sure that the final bit of action, spilling the drink on the dress provoking the big reveal, is meaningful in any way, although I am sure they needed some pretext for it. Does this imply a restitution of social norms somehow? Maybe I am overthinking it. I find myself coming away saying "Hmmm....ok", rather than "Hey! Wow!"

Once again, though, I take some encouragement from this ad. Both protagonists are beautiful, whether as a boy or a girl. Both are enjoying their crossdressing, publicly and successfully. They are not in drag; they are not grotesque or overcooked. There is an undertone of the forbidden or the spicy, but I suspect that's what the agency is trying to associate with the product, and I certainly associate with crossdressing myself. Overall the ad doesn't grab me or make me want to buy the product, but it doesn't repel me and want me to shout at the screen (like the kitchen paper ad).

So the winner for me is the Twingo ad, with Campari in second place. Congratulations. A wooden spoon with two golden raspberries to Bounty. Sorry lads.

The Internet has dozens of ads featuring crossdressing. In a future blog post, I might get on and talk about a few more.

Pinnacles of masculinity

Surely it cannot be true that men have football instead of emotions? --Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.

As an academic with an inquiring mind, I find myself interested in a great many things. There are very few things which I have no interest in whatsoever, but field sports is one of them. One of the earliest things which I realised marked me out from among the "normal" boys was my complete disinterest in football. (For the avoidance of doubt, the football I mean here is soccer).

Where I grew up, football was ingrained. Knowledge, understanding and appreciation of football was essential for peer acceptance. I possessed none of those.

While I found it easy to learn the binomial nomenclature of living things, I found it impossible to learn anything about football. Conversely, boys in my class who struggled with the simplest of arithmetic and grammar knew seemingly everything about football: all the names of all the players in all the teams. And the peripheral information too: the managers, the grounds, the histories. Who beat whom in the semifinals in 1982, and what the score was.

Of course, I played football at school. The alternative was complete isolation, which was worse. But lacking any enthusiasm for the game, I was basically rubbish at it (yes, I was always the last kid picked for the team). I still don't understand the offside rule. As soon as reasonably possible, I gave up football completely.

I laughed out loud when I read this extract from the wonderful book, Long Way Round, written by Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman. In 2004, they made a trip round the world on motorbikes, telling everyone they were going from London to New York, "the long way round". I saw a new side to Ewan McGregor which I found I really admired, and I found myself deeply moved at many of the situations they found themselves in. I often wish I could do something similar.

In this extract, Ewan and Charlie have just been stopped by the police at a border:

"Are you German?" one of the policeman said.
"No, British. He's English and I'm Scottish", I said, pointing to the flags on our helmets.
"Arsenal!" the policeman exclaimed.
Not a football fan, I nevertheless realised that I should play along. After all, Jamie [their security advisor] had told us there were two English words that were understood the world over: fuck and Beckham.
"Yeah, Arsenal," I said, smiling and trying to look enthusiastic about a team of which I knew nothing.
"Chelsea!" the policeman said. I racked my brain. I knew Chelsea had recently played a team from somewhere in Europe.
"Three-one," the policeman said. "Monaco three. Chelsea one."
I was lost. Football, the male lingua franca, and I couldn't speak a word.

I've had similar conversations with other men my whole life, in which I attempt to feign knowledge or interest in this most uninteresting subject.

My problems are not limited to football, but also rugby, which was played at my secondary school in preference to soccer. Football, they say, is a game for gentlemen, but played by hooligans. Rugby is a game for hooligans, played by gentlemen. Either of those sayings may be true in some circumstances. From my perspective, both seem to be games for hooligans, played by hooligans.

New Zealand is a wonderful country in all respects: outstanding scenery, amazing food and wine, delightful people, and a welcoming, egalitarian society which made me feel instantly at home. I have spent several years there. The national game of NZ is rugby, and the national team is the All Blacks, who won the most recent Rugby World Cup in 2011.

As a student, I knew very little about New Zealand. My girlfriend of the time had been to many more rugby matches than I had, and one day told me about the haka. I had never heard of it. It was, she said, a war dance performed by the All Blacks before their international fixtures. A way of intimidating the opposition, it sounded ridiculous and comical: surely something to provoke amusement rather than intimidation.

It took some years before I eventually witnessed a haka. My jaw dropped. Take a look:

This is very similar to the haka which I first saw. In fact, on YouTube there are dozens of clips to choose from. Even the All Blacks' haka is not a concrete thing, but there are different versions which are performed from time to time.

Clearly it is a Maori war dance. The All Blacks have been doing a haka for over a century, so it's not a new thing. In fact, other island nations have similar intimidating dances which they perform before their games. The history and the translation can be easily found on Wikipedia.

But if you knew nothing of any of this, you would just need to watch it. The haka speaks clearly on a level which transcends all language, culture and geographical boundaries. It is the language of the midbrain, the language of pure testosterone-drenched aggression. Fifteen or so of the toughest, strongest and most powerful players in the world line up, roar, stomp, slap themselves and glare at you with expressions of pure hostility. It looks like rage. It looks like violence. It looks like pain. And it is doesn't contain any of these things!

When I first saw it, I thought it was one of the most thrilling and frightening displays I had ever seen. It still makes me want to run away and hide. I surrender! The reason I find it so powerful is that I know that I would have no meaningful answer to it whatsoever: no threat or physicality to offer in return; this is not true of the opposing team, who are also fifteen or so of the toughest players in the world.

I think the haka is an astonishing thing. I totally get it: I understand its popularity, its longevity, and its widespread imitation. I feel quite strongly, however, that it is unfair for the All Blacks to have the psychological advantage of performing the haka, but according to official rules the other team is not permitted to perform any act of defiance or retribution.

When looking for a pinnacle of masculinity, the haka must be pretty close to it. As someone who is not aggressive or traditionally masculine in any way, even I adore it.

How does one respond to this level of masculinity? You can't fight fire with fire, but you can fight it with another masculine gesture, and a dash of wit:

Tampon Troubles

A lot of controversy has been generated this week by a New Zealand television advertisement for tampons. The brand, Libra, produced a 30-second commercial featuring a crossdresser and a genetic woman in the ladies' room. (It was also planned to be screened in Australia).

The ad features a "competition" between the crossdresser and the girl, as they attempt to outdo each other in an "anything you can do, I can do better" manner: applying lip gloss and mascara, and jiggling their boobs. Finally the girl "wins" by pulling out a small box of tampons, at which the crossdresser stalks out in an apparent huff. The closing line of the commercial is "Libra gets girls".

Cherise Witehira, President of Agender New Zealand, said the ad was "blatantly transphobic" and called for a public apology and the ad to be withdrawn. Although no apology has been issued, the ad has been taken off the air after only a couple of screenings. Thankfully we have YouTube, where we can all watch it as often as we like.

In her interview with TVNZ, Ms Witehira claimed that members of the public, who are not familiar with different categories of transgendered people, would be confused about whether the crossdresser in the ad was a drag queen or a transsexual.

However, the main point of contention seems to be that the ad is claiming that transgendered women are not "real" women, because they don't menstruate. Some very powerful comments to this effect have been left on Libra's Facebook page and in other public fora.

In addition, some commentators are pointing out the ad is just in poor taste. It's not offensive, it's just not that funny.

In fairness, not everyone hates the ad. There are some positive comments in response to the NZ Herald's article about it. Serena writes: The trans community is not speaking for me here. (I'm a 10 years post-operative transwoman). The character is clearly a drag queen, the advert is gentle and funny, and a whole lot of people need to lighten up, they are NOT helping the trans community in any way be being up in arms about nothing. How can people be "disgusted and offended" by this? next they'll get upset by knicker and bra adverts. I'd love to be able to disown the lot of them.

So what do I think about this?

First, one sure fire way to stimulate a great deal of public interest in something is to protest about it. By protesting so strongly, Cherise Witehira has undoubtedly scored an own goal: she has given the ad substantially more publicity than it would otherwise have generated. (It would probably have been screened late at night a dozen or so times, before being eventually dropped).

Second, I deeply sympathise with the plight of transsexual people of all kinds. It's an unspeakably painful experience to go through. Every one of them I have ever met has made enormous sacrifices to be true to themselves: their job, their friends, their marriage. So it's quite understandable that this sort of ad presses an especially tender button with some transsexual people: What do you mean I'm not a real woman?

Third, from an ordinary viewer's perspective, the ad is quite funny, though not a side-splitter. I find ads for feminine sanitary products to be, in general, quite unstimulating. Proving how many gallons of blue water a sanitary pad can absorb is not especially entertaining. I can see how the ad agency was looking for a new angle with a bit of humour thrown in, and I applaud this effort.

And Libra have always tried to inject a bit of humour into their advertising. Take a look at this one, which I think is hilarious, and provoked no complaint at all:

Fourth, it's not quite clear to me what "category" of trans person the ad is supposed to be depicting. It seems the transsexuals are quite clear that they don't identify with the person in the ad, who is described as a "drag queen" in some circles. Is she a drag queen? Or just a glamorous transvestite? It doesn't matter! I confess to being a "lumper" rather than a "splitter", in this regard; which is to say that, as a man who loves to dress as a woman, for me the motivation is less important than the behaviour. Another way to put it is to say that I think there is more than unites us than divides us, and insisting on somewhat arbitrary categorisations is unhelpful. In any case, I wish I could look as good as that!

Finally, from a crossdresser's viewpoint, the ad is quite cool. A person (who is not at first glance a crossdresser) walks into a ladies' room. At second glance, we realise there is something a little different about her (she looks great, IMHO), and we "read" her. So does the girl she is standing beside. Nobody runs screaming. Nobody calls the police. Nobody, in fact, thinks that this is a particularly inappropriate thing for her to be doing. In fact, the crossdresser and the girl begin to size each other up, and compete with each other, on the same terms. The only way in which the girl can "win" this competition is by changing the terms: you look as good as me, you dress as well as me, you can apply as many cosmetics as me, but I've got a uterus and you don't. (This is actually a cheap shot, which makes the girl (not the crossdresser) look bad, and is one reason why the ad doesn't succeed: the tampon wins, but does not win without (just a little) cruelty).

But stepping aside from this parting shot, the scenario of the ad is quite positive. It implies that crossdressers can just go out to bars like everyone else, and adopt the role and persona of women without anyone being upset by it. And the very premise of the ad is that it's acceptable for crossdressers to behave in this way. Surely some encouragement can be taken from that?