Did you see the handsome 12-page insert that Mercury ran in The New Yorker to promote its new SUV? It's all this great Manhattan photography, with copy like "The SUV built for here"; "Designed first and foremost to handle the rigors of where you drive"; and ". . . its clean, sophisticated lines were born of the city." What's the name of this utterly urbane vehicle? The Mountaineer.
There's a new line of haircare products from the Lamaur Corp. in Minneapolis (Prince's hometown) called B in10se, which they thoughtfully translate as "Be intense," for those of us who aren't CEFFs. Those are "cutting edge fashion fanatics," a demo coined by the Lamaur CEO. For the rest of us, who need the assistance of Uni-CEFF, the campaign for this "Professional hairstuff 4U," themed "We give good head," rates a decisive 9. As in the opposite of Ja.
First the spy plane/hostage situation, now this: After a pint of moo goo gai pan the other day, we were horrified to discover an ad on the back of the fortune in our fortune cookie. On one side it reads, "Your destiny lies before you, choose wisely." On the other: "Save a FORTUNE at Half.com!!!" with a friggin' $5-off coupon code. To the hack who's responsible for this: Your destiny lies before you, and it involves picking one torture from column A and one from column B.
Thanks to Consort hair spray, "Made only for men," we now know manly Mike Ditka's rules to live by: "No chick flicks. No stylist named Pierre. No going to the powder room with your friends." Big Mike, besides the fact that you've revealed that you make furtive solo visits to the ladies' room and you have a stylist, you should know that one meaning of `consort' is `spouse' and one of the key Consort copy points is "Never stiff." Is your agent named Pierre?