Thursday, April 16, 2015

The Gift of Love

Either  society is in its last days, everyone is getting older, or both.

Try looking through the Carol Wright Gifts catalogue and you'll see what I mean.

 First off, as in virtually all catalogues and magazine ads, the products being advertised are advertised by people without the condition that the advertisement is for. 

I should rephrase that. An add for wrinkle cream has a model without even a slight hint of a wrinkle who is possibly in her early 20s.  The potential consumers, however, actually have wrinkles and are probably much older.

This has always been the case, but now that I am wrinkled, crinkled and sprinkled, it makes more of an impression. Genie Slim-leggings, for example, are modeled on a woman who has perfectly shaped legs, hips and so on. 

Embroidered dresses for $22, which are probably intended for single elderly women, are shown on what can only be described as beautiful young women.  Then there is the ad for a gizmo to remove facial hair. She has as much hair as a balloon.

The fantastic nature of magazine ads and articles became clear to me several decades ago, when I was reading Men's Health. The people who write and otherwise produce it, suggest that its readers are young ambitious executive types who exercise like maniacs and have several opportunities with gorgeous women a few times a week.

It dawned on me that the magazine is a fantasy for paunchy old not-extremely successful guys who are married or who haven't had a date in the past 36 months. Coincidentally, like all of these magazines, the cover depends on lists, and these lists are always about sex, diet, and sex.

Ten ways to win her back; 8 things she cannot ignore; 11 ways to create bulging muscles, 9 ways to lose 8 pounds, 5 ways to make her understand you better, and so on.

A magazine editor actually confirmed all of this once in an unguarded moment. 

Anyway, we're leafing through the Gift catalogue, and we go from waist shapers for a woman who ways perhaps 110 pounds, to -- "maximum pleasure for him," a device once advertised in plain envelopes.  On the next page is "Men's Mood Pleaser."  To quote, "Get yourself in the mood with this soft, sensual stroker."  


Then a few more pages of knick knacks, cheap sheets, crew socks, and so forth, we get a double-truck spread (no pun there, really) on the amazing butterfly kiss, the maestro of strokers, pocket size pleasure kit (for her), and help strengthen your prostate (for him).  

Then it's back to therapeutic pillows, slipcovers, lanterns, mosquito killers, and armchair organizers.

Am I a naive prude? I don't think so.

 Nor do I think there's anything wrong with people over the age of 20 or 60 having sex, with or without a partner. I just did not expect to see these things so casually pitched in a catalogue for wrinkled, cheap,  bargain hunting overweight, self-conscious men and women. 

Live and learn, I guess. But if I had any young children, I would feel obligated to hide this catalogue, lest they learn about strokers, passion ribs, and other sex toys, from that dirty old lady, Carol Wright.