Finally a clothing trend worthy of mention. What - we get skinny jeans and the Japanese get to play conservative cocktease with faux-transparent skirts and built-in thongs that show nothing but promise everything at the same time?
We can do better than this. Where's Lil' Kim when you need her?
Update: the PC police inform us nobody actually walks around with panties printed on their skirts, which we took to be a damn shame. The cheesy skirts are apparently used in cheap porns to titillate men who can't afford to put mirrors on their shoes.
We're not sure the mid-90's style baggy, pleated pants the guy is wearing in this video are as intentionally spoofy as the rest of the site but that's besides the point. We're not talking about fashion here. We're talking about an agency that thinks viral marketing is fleeting and unproductive and has pioneered something much better: Disease Marketing. Yes. "Why settle for a harmless virus when you can get a full blown disease," says the trouser-wearing agency dude.
Minneapolis-based Kruskopf Coontz, calling itself "the face of disease," promises its disease marketing can lift brands to the level of emphysema: incurable and impossible to ignore. And that's not all. After introducing its "The New Viral" approach, Kruskopf whisks us away to its brand new website with an intro that brings together the finest, most complete collection of agency bullshit including B.S. Central (scroll all the way to the right), a video section of their site that gleefully tears apart the industry's obsession with awards, pointless philosophies, 25/8 dedication, its people, pontificating press releases, street cred, hipsterificness, base touching and the idiotic, self-important use of cell phones.
Toilet humour isn't just the cheapest form of joke; it's probably also the most relatable. Scott Clog Clinic, an ongoing Scott campaign meant to educate people about best toilet practices and share fun facts, just awarded a 23-year-old Pennsylvanian $25,000 for sharing his "cloggiest moment."
In brief, said 23-year-old takes his father's advice late one night and uses his uncle's ski pole to get rid of a clog that won't be moved by a plunger.
Why give the guy money? What they should have given him was film equipment. There's nothing like watching a stressful situation like that play out on Youtube. It has all the right components: an anxious 20-something, a gigantic piece of shit and ski equipment. How did anyone avoid filming this?
According to one Adrants reader, this commercial for Trident Spearmint Watermelon Splash is "plaguing" Canada. We can certainly see why. It's not a stretch to assume opera goers - or anyone for that matter - would take too kindly to a guy strolling into the auditorium wearing nothing but a red Speedo and rubbing his ass in people's faces as he made his way to his seat. Somehow this is supposed to sell gum. We're at a loss to see how.
If you're a caveman (no, not the Geico caveman because you, my friend, would somehow think this is yet another slight on your kind) and you're eating a "Half Chocolately, Half Candy, Half Crazy" Vertigo bar from Topps Confections, you might want to keep your arms close by. The campaign, which kicks off March 19, was created by Duval Guillaume New York and will air through May 28 on Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network, ABC Family among others. Here's a look at one of the four :15's.
We're minding our own business, reading an article on reverse mortgages for a fear-induced high, when we see this ad for Jeffrey D Horn, MD, vision specialist.
And now we feel this insane compulsion to don a white coat, walk down the street and bark "Cataracts slowing you down? GET YOUR ZOOM BACK!" at innocent spectacled passersby. If we didn't have titanic strength of will we most undoubtedly would, unbridled and uncut.
Sometimes your message just doesn't interpret the way it ought to. But maybe it's not the ad. Maybe we should just stop trolling senior citizen websites. Maybe we should stop mixing vodka in our orange juice at breakfastime. There could be a thousand contributing factors here.
In a perhaps misguided attempt to encourage people to donate organs, Fondation Greffe de Vie releases the following campaign by Leo Burnett/Paris.
We can't read the copy but according to AdCritic it says divorcing a part or two can save up to seven lives. If that doesn't make you feel more charitable, look closely at the image. "Merci" is etched into the flesh beneath the stitching. Isn't that sweet?
While we're quite sure this is tongue in cheek and an homage advertising pre-feminist glory days, we're still not quite sure what flooring materials have to do with an attractive woman. Created by Shine Advertising, the campaign supposedly "hinges on day-in-the-life moments, in which the oft-ignored flooring actually becomes the focal point of an event." It's all designed to appeal to the Mcmansion crowd who want to feel as if they're a part of an economic class of which they will never be a part. Oh yea, that's aspirational advertising. Basically the point of every ad campaign created. But what's up with the fawning females and that ridiculous copy?
Having disingenuously defecated on the campaign, this might work better as a trade campaign. After perusing through Floor Covering Installer Magazine with its ceaseless parade of dull product shot advertising, this campaign would certainly catch a glimpse from the almost entirely male demo that makes up that industry. See two other versions of the ad here and here.
Here's one of those ads that makes you want to check your arms for track marks to make sure you aren't high on something. In this entrancing Innocent smoothie commercial, an orange introspectively ponders life after death as he prepares to become part of the product. You can see more of the refreshingly odd campaign here.
The campaign is not endorsed by Innocent but an effort by Swedish agency Peacock Advertising to pitch the account.
Oh, ick. Adfreak points us over to this ad for the River City Bagel and Bakery in Boise, Idaho. Apparently they wanted to get a little clever and tie their product to the Vagina Monologues, which is playing in the area.
We're not prudes about anatomy but the thought of quim over our next lox shmear brings us close to queasy.