The ad: This 1989 moldy Old Spice deodorant doozy, a special summer blast from the past!
The verdict: Head games galore from the usual load of perverts, long overdue recognition for the world's greatest celebrity sunglasses and a conspicuous absence of gerbils!
i just can't wait. underarms with personalities. Thinking underarms. With glasses on them yet. Hot damn. Is life good or what?
John, this ad is from '89. The thinking-underarm-with-glasses thing never took off. Instead we got the milk mustache. Sorry.
. . . the model is andrew cunanan. really freaky how the split personality thing is foreshadowed, as well as the tagline, because had Gianni Versace been wearing a swipe of Old Spice (Old Spica in Italian) maybe the "World class protection" promise would have saved his life. Especially if his underarms were where his head was, he would have been shot through the pit, not the head, then he would just have to draw his designs with his feet.
You're really twisted, Val. We're forwarding your letter to Marv Albert (Marvo Alberti in Italian).
which old spice scent is right for the surly guy whose head is buried in the centerfold of Ms. July, and what has become of the brilliantly annoying media/account team that put this cheezy stud in the middle of my favorite spank mag?
What? No one's surly head is buried in the centerfold. This is from Playboy, not Hustler. As for the media/account team, all we know is they're in the Four A's witless protection program.
this ad reminds me of what dear old dad used to say after he'd whipped me for burning down the house again or sleeping with another one of the neighbor's wives: "Where's your head, son? Up your ass?" Thanks for the stroll down memory lane.
Anytime, Steve. And when you're done with your friggin' stroll, maybe you'd like to explain the damn ad!
is this the same thing as a rectal/cranial inversion (a little interoffice humor)? Either way your head's going to smell like the pits.
Scott, why do you have one name like Fabian? And how is a rectal/cranial inversion "interoffice humor"? What do you do over there, you all gather around the water cooler standing on your heads?
a huge influx of bad coke in the late '80s resulted in widespread schizophrenia alluded to here by the gentleman's bizarre combination of headwear. This opportunity to double market share led to campaigns such as Prell's famous, "A Split Personality Doesn't Have to Mean Split Ends."
Dave, that hardly explains the much earlier, "Two, two, two mints in one."
will this deodorant offer "world class protection" if his new flavor of the month has time from her jazzercise workout to poke holes in it? This ad just proves that men in the '80s had their head somewhere else.
Men in the '90s are any different? And what's this it she pokes holes in, Emilia?
i can see this guy on the beach now: girl in bikini saunters over, mesmerized by the scent of his Island Breeze. She asks, "Is that Old Spice you're wearing?" He says, "Why, yes, and if you like what you smell, there's more where that came from. Meet me at the gym in 10 minutes. I'll be wearing something a little more 'classic.' " Sniff-sniff.
We don't know quite what you're getting at, April, but we're sure it's revolting!
the subliminal message refers to enrolling in a contortionist's school as the means to best placing your underarms and head in close proximity. A qualified proctologist will be standing by to assist . . .
A qualified proctologist? So you're a dirty-minded copywriter, huh?
before there was rogaine, old spice introduced scented armpit hair scalp-plug replacement therapy.
So that's why Grandpa uses Right Guard as hair spray!
this product will prevent the very embarrassing problem of your melon wandering off and leaving your armpits behind . . .
Your melon wandering off? We don't quite know what you're talking about, but it sure sounds filthy.
it's obvious where the copywriter's head was at. And it was assuredly warm and dark there.
The movie theater? A lot of great copy is written at unairconditioned second-run movie houses . . . oh, you're just another one of these disgusting people!
i don't care what old spice is doing to this man's head. I want to know if that is a pair of the most advanced self-tinting prescription glasses ever. From clear to black, and with such contemporary styling! I'll put my head in my underarms anytime for a pair of those babies.
They're Erik Estrada California Highway Patrol Blue Blockers, and you should buy a pair immediately (operators are standing by) so Erik can get on to more important things like CHiPS: The Musical.
forget attaching armpits to the side of your head. Where can I get a funky pair of glasses like that? It's kind of a '90s type of swashbuckler look. Put a parrot on his shoulder and no one will care how he smells. Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of Schweppes.
Erik Estrada Highway Patrol Blue Blockers, man, call the toll-free number now. And you're so right about wearing a parrot. With all that bird crap running down your back, you don't need deodorant, cologne, you don't even have to shower!
can you imagine if this was a tampon ad: Now your crotch can be where your head is at. Actually, some guys might appreciate that. Besides, who's vain enough to change the scent of their deodorant depending upon their activities?
Some guys might appreciate it? And as for who's vain enough, who isn't? We switched from Old Spice Morning Muffin to Mennen Egyptian Papyrus just to do this page. Our parrot died last week, unfortunately.
it's their new line of suppository deodorants for those who relate to Erik Estrada Blue Blocker sunglasses and Jim Carrey Cable Guy workout gear.
Come on, Hart, did you really have to sully the name of Erik Estrada by mentioning it in the same breath as that loser Jim Carrey? You ever hear of Jim Carrey Blue Blockers? We rest our case.
like our heads, the much maligned armpit has an agenda for fun. Sometimes my armpits crave an island getaway. Other days, my armpits want to be challenged with an Outward Bound-type experience. Right now, both of my armpits are nagging me to leave the office and go drink martinis. Please make them stop.
Andy, you just Annetted yourself the grand prize! Your response recalls the unruly pit belonging to the divine Marilyn Chambers in Cronenberg's classic horror pic Rabid. We gave your jockstrap to a homeless man on the corner of Madison and 45th, and he is now wearing it proudly over his pants.
This Month's Contest
Win a case of Andre cold duck and a
Maurice Chevalier record!
It's a new French vodka with the Eiffel towering name of Grey Goose! The copy calls it "the first ultra-premium vodka from France . . . made from the purest waters of Cognac . . . uniquely filtered through champagne limestone . . ." Headline: "If the French can do this with a kiss . . . (Imagine what they can do with a vodka!)" Pardonnez us? Like, ou est le kiss? This man seems to have slipped into a tiny coma. Send your bon mots, Larrys and Curlys to Adulate@aol.com. Contest not open to Paris, Texas, residents!