I’m 29 going on thirty
I know that I’m naive
Fellows I meet may tell me I’m sweet
And willingly I believe
Oh , 29, 29, 29, tweeeeeeenty nine. In a year’s time, I’ll be 30. Then before you know it, I’ll be dead.
Oh, I’m sorry readers (all two of you), I shouldn’t really start off in such a depressive tone this close to the start of the weekend, but it’s all John Lewis’ fault really. Their latest ad campaign has been described ‘an empowerment of women’, ‘breathtaking’, and ‘original’. Truth be told, I find it maudlin and depressing. I like my ads to be light hearted and witty. Not Oven Pride light. Just something akin to Cadburys and their minute and a half of joy adverts.
However, like some fashionista grim reaper, John Lewis fast-forwards through the life of a nameless woman from cradle to grave (Okay, so not completely to the grave, but she does, at least, have one well tailored foot in the grave). All the while, another easily exchangeable Mr Potato Head with designer stubble and a guitar warbles through a Billy Joel hit. It’s like watching Kate Winslet in The Reader. Except with less Nazis. After the full minute and a half is over, I’m weeping into a bottle of red wine and pondering the futility of existence. A gorilla playing the drums this isn’t.
As for being original, well, I leave it to this advert for Italian fashion company, Calzedonia, which goes someway to showing that are no more original ideas.