Firstly, for my non-British readers, who are Marks & Sparks? Well it’s short for Marks & Spencer who are a sort of lower middle-class British institution – the kind of department store that has been around forever and occupies a specially cosy place in our sentimental British hearts. It’s where more or less the entire country buys their socks and underwear, which should tell you all you need to know. They also have something of a reputation for their food, although I can’t honestly tell you why. I think that way back in the early days of pre-prepared foods theirs was a cut above the other crap out there, but I doubt that holds true anymore.
Anyhow, they’ve been struggling recently through being neither cheap enough to be bargain basement nor cool enough to be hip, and having a reputation as somewhere grannies shop. Jean-Yves somebody or other had a stab, before buggering off to turn the Millennium Dome into the sort of spectacular fiasco at which Britain truly excels. Now it’s the turn of a chap called, I believe, Stuart Rose to have a stab. This man is so unpleasantly wealthy that simply by paying proper taxes he could probably bankroll all the benefit fraud in the UK – but of course his accountants couldn’t have that – and he has set about making M&S cool again.
Part of this strategy has seen the arrival of pornographically breathy voice-overs in their adverts – some sultry tart pouting ‘Not just knickers, these are Emm and Ess knickers’. Honestly, she’s experiencing so much sexual pleasure as she says the words you assume the dirty bitch must be fiddling with herself even as she’s recording the advert. They’ve also applied this approach to food, embracing the recent ‘Mmm, even as I stir this souffle, you’re imagining me on all fours, giving you almost exactly the same look I’m giving you right now‘ style of gastro-porn brought to its trouser-tented pinnacle by the brilliantly filthy Nigella Lawson.
So, this weekend, Mrs Toad and I were watching an almost comically bad adaptation of Persuasion by Jane Austen and M&S obviously decided that the Jane Austen watching crowd was just their demographic so what should come on during the adverts but one of these dusky voice-overed (yes, I know that’s not really a word) Marks & Sparks ads. It was hilarious: ‘Mmh, succulent firm young stems… oooh, are you hard? lovely sprouting stems of.. oh this is getting me quite wet… oh firm young fleshy rods…’ All they were talking about was broccoli, as it happens, but I nonetheless was forced to excuse myself for five minutes for a quick one off the wrist in the downstairs bathroom it was all just so sexy. More to the point though, there was something disturbingly wrong in the juxtaposition of all this breathless moaning and the words being used – ‘firm, young, oooh..’ – to describe the produce in question. I’d imagine the adverts for imported twelve-year-old sex slaves from Thailand would sound much the same. ‘Oooh, tender young limbs. Firm, smooth flesh. Ahh, mmh… succulent meaty chunks..’ Oh no, that’s cat food
‘Not just anal fisting, this is M&S anal fisting.’
The Raveonettes – Little Animal This has the best opening line to a song. Ever.
The Raveonettes – Dirty Eyes (Sex Don’t Sell)
The Clash – Lost in the Supermarket
