Hail to the What?

Ok, this came from my friend Jen, who writes Misadventures of a Singleton, is one of my favorite people and also happens to be funnier than most people. This post needed to be shared.

Hail to the What?

I am sure that whatever group, coalition, committee, or such that monitors television commercials must be in a tizzy over FDS’s new catchy phrase, “Hail to the V.” I mean, was it not enough that the general public was bombarded with ideas of male impotence during most sporting events that someone decided to take a stand with a feminine version? CNN hosted quite a rousing debate on their comments page over such an idea. Many, many people were offended over the idea of discussing private, intimate issues on such a public forum. However, I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the same group will be outraged because some company dared allude to the all-powerful vagina on prime-time television.

Have you seen the commercials? These powerful images of women kicking butt over the centuries tied up neatly with the idea that as long as your vag smells like a Glade Plug-In, you’re someone to be celebrated. Only as long as you’ve watered the flower, mind you. And that you’ve chosen to use their product to do it. Because Cleopatra had access to aerosol sprayers, and, in her spare time, made sure to attend to, ahem, personal hygiene, when she was sending her armies to pillage some city. Yep, she was a butt kicker and quite the hygienist, no? That fact seemed to be omitted from my history book.

Sorry, FDS, I’m not buying your line. I think you’re trying to take a feminist stance here and celebrate our “secret power” and all, but only if I use your product? The one that can actually exacerbate and irritate the sensitive area you want to perfume? That if a TSA agent takes it out of my purse because it’s a liquid over 3.5 ounces, I am supposed to say, “Don’t detain me. Hail to my V!” Right. Or if it falls out of my purse at a bar, men are going to fall to their knees in a state of tribal worship and chant the praises of my vajayjay? (That could be a legendary evening, actually). What I think would really happen is an awkward silence, with me on the floor, scrambling to get everything back into said purse before being seen.

Thanks, FDS, but I think I can kick some ass all on my own. But if I need a signature scent to leave in my wake, it will probably be my Clinique Aromatics. Thanks, but no thanks.

I have not seen these commercials on television yet. I can hardly wait to explain them to my daughters.

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