Newsday, NY
04-03-06
From bed to worse: Ads sanction porn
On the last page of a trio of Dolce & Gabbana ads appearing in the March issue
of Esquire, and elsewhere, two fully dressed guys are gawking at a naked man
whose head dangles over the edge of a black leather ottoman. His eyes are
closed. His lips, parted and glossed, have that come-hither expression that is by
now, for those who actually scan ads, cliche. The bare one's legs are wide open.
Toward the general vicinity of his genitalia, which, thankfully, are concealed, one
of the gawkers is pointing a forefinger.
Caught off-guard by this display of semi-soft pornography in a magazine
devoted to humor, sass and smarts - and ideas other than raw porn - the reader
flips back a couple pages to examine the ads in toto. The first page in the photo
spread shows, head to toe, a seated man in a nice off-white suit and a similarly
suited second male, pictured from the chest down and unzipping his fly.
Sandwiched between the first and last pages is a full-page photograph of three
other men, one of them standing shirtless in the foreground and, gazing, it
seems, in the direction of the butt-naked guy splayed across the black leather. Is
that the look of desire on his face?
It's not hard to figure out what the ad agency hired to represent Dolce & Gabbana
is trying to stir up. That sex sells is an old notion, perhaps, more tried than true.
Ad researchers do say that overtly and subliminally sexual ads can achieve the
intended effect of arousing the senses and, in that way, maybe leave the
advertiser's imprint on the mind.
But while the Gap, as one example, continues to make a sort of fresh-faced
appeal to sell its khaki pants, the more aggressive advertiser is betting the bank
that it does not have to be so sanitized. Whether this moves merchandise is the
question.
"Hmmm? Does sex really sell?" asked Russell Laczniak, pondering aloud the
question put to him and weighing it as an academic would.
"What typically happens is the depictions will attract attention to the sexual
aspect of the ad but people often don't make a connection to the brand itself. The
connection is not made to the brand because the focus is so strong on the sex,"
said the Iowa State University professor of marketing and consumer
behavior. He also is editor of the Journal of Advertising.
Two University of North Carolina researchers found in 2004 that there is a
"disgust" factor, a degree of anti-consumerism from people turned off by the
sexual overload.
"That negative effect is strong. It can be very powerful and actually take away
from a person's intention to buy a certain product," Laczniak said, citing that 2year-old study by UNC's Terrence Shimp and Elnora Stuart.
And that begs the question: How much more sexual stimulation do we need?
During its recent comeback, the '80s-era shoe manufacturer, Candies, ran a
series of ads. The more memorable, more startling of them featured a young
woman sitting on the toilet, the nipples of her bare breasts concealed by careful
placement of her forearms, panties at her ankles and Candies on her feet. In
another, a woman was plopped atop the bathroom vanity, Candies on her feet
and a half-naked guy between her legs. A towel was wrapped around his waist,
but that did nothing to lessen the assault.
We're not talking about subliminal suggestion, that more subtle standard of
yesteryear, but a full-on press that makes it hard to tell whether what's being
marketed is the product or promiscuity.
Women were the objectified group in those Candies ads. In that triptych of Dolce
& Gabbana ads, one presumes that gay men are the object, which makes the
hypersexual homosexual something of a poster boy. And maybe some in that
objectified group are as baffled as I am by that kind of pitch to shoppers.
If borders are being pushed farther and farther out, where, as consumers, do we
draw the line? There's got to be a tipping point, an instant when we begin fighting
back.
Katti Gray's e-mail address is katti@kattigray.com.