Tiny Pineapple

At the back of the catwalk on Bravo’s Project Runway, there’s a large, translucent panel with the Project Runway logo on it.

During the first season there were a number of times when they had a camera backstage watching the models enter or exit the catwalk, but since the entire logo wasn’t in the frame, all you’d see was this:

They’d spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on branding and marketing and yet, week after week, they seemed intent on leaving people with the subliminal impression that the show was a big YAWN.

I think they’ve learned their lesson, though. I’ve watched the first three episodes of the second season and I haven’t seen the big YAWN once.

Just fold your arms…

Click to see the full-sized image…

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Created with Pierre Chatelier’s Mozodojo.

When I first saw this advertisement from Jockey…

 Jockey Underwear (Haircut)

…I didn’t immediately reflect on what a sensual pleasure it is to have your hair cut by a beautiful woman.

I didn’t think about her cradling the back of my neck as I leaned back and rested my head in the shampoo sink. I didn’t think of her reaching across my face to turn on the water and catching the subtle fragrance of the perfume on her wrist. And I didn’t think about her taking the sprayer and rubbing it slowly against my scalp, the warm water making me a little fuzzy-headed.

I didn’t think about her pouring the shampoo into her cupped hand and then working it into my hair, her fingernails applying just the right amount of pressure on my scalp. Not too hard, not too soft.

I didn’t think about her rinsing the shampoo out of my hair and applying the conditioner, the smell of cherry and almonds filling the air. I didn’t think about how there would be no fingernails this time, just the tips of her fingers sliding effortlessly through my hair. Around and around they would swirl, my head bobbing softly left, then right, then left, then right.

I didn’t think about her rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and then cradling the back of my neck to raise me up out of the sink. I didn’t think about her plopping a towel on my head and softly dabbing at my hair, then throwing the towel around my shoulders and saying, “Follow me.” And I didn’t think about how I would be thinking, “Anywhere….”

I didn’t think about sitting down in the chair and having her appraise me in the mirror. I didn’t think about how she might ask, “So, what are we doing this time?” And I didn’t think about how thrilled I would be that she remembered me from last time. “I just need it cleaned up a little…I’m trying to grow it out,” I might say, hoping she would think that I was only six inches of hair away from looking like Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall.

I didn’t think about her running her fingers through my hair, feeling her way around the back of my head, and then grabbing my bangs and pulling them down over my eyes. And I didn’t think about her grabbing her scissors and working quickly and expertly, the air tinged with the danger of having a sharp implement whizzing past my ears and eyes.

I didn’t think about hearing the soft hum of the clippers as she cleaned up the back of my neck and then grabbing her soft brush to sweep the hair off of my cheeks and neck. I didn’t think about the chill that would pass down my spine as she blew softly on my ear to remove a few stray hairs. And I didn’t think about her putting her soft hand on my shoulder, smiling, and saying, “Done.”

I didn’t think about any of those things.

All I though was, “Ooo, itchy. He’s going to get hair down his waistband.”

In 1987 Estée Lauder introduced a new fragrance for men called Metropolis. The Encyclopedia of World Perfumes provides the following “olfactive description” for the fragrance:

Sage Lavender Basil Mandarine Spicy (Clove, Cinnamon) Neroli Sandalwood Patchouli Vetiver Mossy Ambery

In 1988, Metropolis won a Fragrance Foundation Recognition Award, often referred to as “The FiFi” (no, I am not making this up), and it is still considered by many to be one of the best men’s fragrances ever produced.

I loved that cologne. It was my cologne. Everyone who knew me associated the smell of Metropolis with me. It’s not that I reeked of the stuff, but people loved the smell of Metropolis and, by association, they loved me, too.

But, today, if you were to go to an Estée Lauder counter and ask for Metropolis, the personal aesthetic consultants behind the counter would most likely stare at you blankly and offer to hose you down with either Lauder Pleasures for Men or the new Lauder Intuition for Men. I doubt that most of them have even heard of Metropolis.

Why? Because Liza Minelli killed it years ago. Over a decade ago, Estée Lauder spent an obscene amount of money to advertise Metropolis with a series of ill-conceived television ads that (if memory serves) featured Liza Minelli in all her sequined glory, ballroom dancing with various anonymous, tuxedoed hunks as she intoned the wonders of Metropolis.

It bombed…big time. It was one of the most disastrous advertising campaigns in history. Most experts look back and say that the problem was that they never made it clear that Metropolis was a men’s fragrance. I would contest that it wouldn’t have mattered if they did.

Q. How many men are going to buy a cologne because Liza Minelli tells them that it’s fabulous? Let me rephrase that: How many straight men are going to buy a cologne because Liza Minelli tells them that it’s fabulous?

A. None. (OK, I bought it, but I started wearing it before I saw the commercials.)

Q. How many gay men are going to buy a cologne because Liza Minelli tells them that it’s fabulous?

A. Blessed few…at least not in 1988. After all, we’re not talking about the 1972 Cabaret Liza here. We’re talking about the 1988 Rent-A-Cop/Arthur 2: On The Rocks Liza.

And this is well after Calvin Klein’s Obsession ads had fundamentally changed fragrance advertising. It’s hard to imagine what the folks at Estée Lauder could have been thinking? But, it doesn’t matter now. Metropolis is gone. It’s gone and I’ve searched the world for over a decade without finding anything to fill the void.

It’s no wonder no one loves me. Damn that woman…

As long as we’re on the subject of fragrance ads…OK, as long as I’m on the subject of fragrance ads…I think the latest compaign for Ralph Lauren’s Romance is an interesting example of women’s and men’s differing ideas of what “romance” really is.

 Romance for Women

 Romance for Men

If you look at the advertisement for Romance for Women, it is a gorgeous black-and-white photograph of two beautiful people caught in a moment of quiet intimacy:

They stood facing each other. Neither spoke. He reached up with his strong, capable hands and slid her crisp, white blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, binding her wrists delicately behind her. His fingertips traced their way back up her arms. He took her gently by the shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers. She looked down, her eyes gazing first at his chest, then down past his rippling stomach, to where his tanned, supple skin constrasted against the white of his jeans. She closed her eyes, afraid that the moment might vanish, but the warmth of his breath on her soft eyelids told her that this moment — this man — was indeed real.

Her haltered top restrained her heaving bosom but it could barely contain her beating heart. She leaned into him, arching her back slightly to maintain contact. He reached up and lifted her chin. She almost couldn’t bear to look at his face for fear losing herself forever in his deep brown eyes. He slid his hand onto the back of her neck and pulled her softly, gently, toward him…pausing just as their lips were about to touch.

“I will love you forever,” he whispered as the rest of her world melted away.

…or something along those lines. <pause> Whew! <dab forehead> Is it hot in here? Pardon me, I’m feeling a little light-headed. <clear throat> Anyway…

Contrast that with the ad for Romance for Men. It, too, is in black-and-white, but the tones are much darker. And this is an action shot: the picture is slightly blurred, hair is flying, and the guy has spun around to reveal a chain tatoo on his bulging bicep. As for the woman, you can’t even tell what she looks like anymore, but that’s OK because this ad is all about the guy. Yes, this is a man who is in command of himself and the situation:

He grabbed her roughly and spun her around, pulling her toward him and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

Now that’s romance. At least men think so…or at least Ralph Lauren thinks that men think so.

I’m not sure what it says about me as a man but, while I think the ad for Romance for Men is perfectly O.K., the Romance for Women advertisement is absolutely amazing.