Gillette Fusion, bad advertising and the blogosphere.
This entry is a bit of a winding path, but bear with me on it.
The story is about my relationship with Gillette. The company recently launched the Fusion, their latest advance in the quest for the perfect shave. Whenever I think I don't care for my job, I consider the poor research people squired away at the razor giant headquarters, staring at the tiny piece of plastic and sharp metal that is a blade cartridge. One blade to two was obvious, but now it's getting ridiculous. Five on the Fusion, along with an additional blade for those tricky areas around the nose and so forth. Frankly, I am amazed by the tenacity of Gillette and their relentless quest to improve. After the Mach III, I thought, "This, for sure, is the end. There can be no further advances for shaving." But the razor-obsessed don't listen to doubters like me. Instead, they toil away in an unrelenting quest to eradicate nicks and cuts.
What always annoyed me, however, is that the product developers had to see their latest work depicted in some of the most abysmal advertising of our time. Even worse, after spending the better part of my adult life crafting brand imagery, it ticks me off that I continue to be a sucker for the latest Gillette razor in spite of the remarkably bad campaigns.
There were the Mach III campaigns, full of rockets blasting about and naked men destined to have the most incredible shave of their lives. Curiously, the men also seemed devoid of genitalia. Why someone believed that an emasculated nude male was going convince other men to buy a razor always escaped me.
Of course, prior to that effort, there was the marginally better but still frightfully dated, "The Best a Man Can Get." Women seemed to like it, mainly because they fantasized about snuggling next to the baby soft, freshly-shaven faces of the men in the commercials, who all seemed to arrive on the set directly from the pages of GQ magazine. For regular guys, it just felt like Gillette was imposing impossibly high standards. So I have to be incredibly good looking and dress exceedingly well, all while being a devoted and thoughtful husband, father, son, son-in-law, brother, brother-in-law, uncle and co-worker? Ah, for chrissakes. Who do these people think I am?
And yet, over the years, I've purchased the Gillette Atra, upgraded to the Gillette Sensor and went directly to the nearest Walgreen's for the Gillette Mach III. I think I may have missed one between the Mach III and the Fusion, but that's only because I sensed there was something very exciting arriving very shortly.
Naturally, the advertising for the Fusion is as dreadful as the Gillette track record. Seems to be shirtless men and fire and welding arcs and such. At least that's what I can remember. Watching it during the Olympics, I thought they were going for some kind of torch tie-in. Hard to be sure, really.
Anyway, I was undeterred. The Fusion, I thought, was the latest advance in shaving excellence and I must incorporate it into my morning regimen. Five blades! Plus a bonus blade! All floating on those tiny springs! It was another victory for the rigors of product development over the shallow efforts of advertising.
Then, via Gaping Void, I learned of something called Shave Blog. Apparently, the guy who writes Shave Blog had been on The Today Show recently, discussing his desire for the return of real shaving — badger hair bristle brushes, English shaving soap — to its rightful place among the manly arts. I was intrigued.
I found out the guy uses a vintage razor from the 1940s. I appreciated his thoughts on it versus the Fusion — his blade was machined from solid steel while the Fusion was pretty much flimsy plastic except for the blades themselves. Side by side, his vintage blade really did make the Fusion look like the Trans Am of razors. Hmm.
The long treatises on shaving on Shave Blog made me ponder the act of removing stubble in a way that millions of dollars in Gillette advertising never had. There was depth to the story. There were generous helpings of both emotion — be a man, dammit! — and logic.
So, quite suddenly, I've put my trip to Walgreen's on hold. If I can find the time, I may investigate the world of vintage razors. Can they, as Shave Blog claims, really grant me a closer and decidedly more comfortable shave?
For Gillette and P&G, it means the millions they've invested in crap advertising and great R&D has been wasted. The deeper connection created by a blog may have trumped it all.
Shudder, if you're a brand manager. Wince, if you're an old-fashioned advertising person. Then make friends, very quickly, with the new transparency and exchange of information.
The story is about my relationship with Gillette. The company recently launched the Fusion, their latest advance in the quest for the perfect shave. Whenever I think I don't care for my job, I consider the poor research people squired away at the razor giant headquarters, staring at the tiny piece of plastic and sharp metal that is a blade cartridge. One blade to two was obvious, but now it's getting ridiculous. Five on the Fusion, along with an additional blade for those tricky areas around the nose and so forth. Frankly, I am amazed by the tenacity of Gillette and their relentless quest to improve. After the Mach III, I thought, "This, for sure, is the end. There can be no further advances for shaving." But the razor-obsessed don't listen to doubters like me. Instead, they toil away in an unrelenting quest to eradicate nicks and cuts.
What always annoyed me, however, is that the product developers had to see their latest work depicted in some of the most abysmal advertising of our time. Even worse, after spending the better part of my adult life crafting brand imagery, it ticks me off that I continue to be a sucker for the latest Gillette razor in spite of the remarkably bad campaigns.
There were the Mach III campaigns, full of rockets blasting about and naked men destined to have the most incredible shave of their lives. Curiously, the men also seemed devoid of genitalia. Why someone believed that an emasculated nude male was going convince other men to buy a razor always escaped me.
Of course, prior to that effort, there was the marginally better but still frightfully dated, "The Best a Man Can Get." Women seemed to like it, mainly because they fantasized about snuggling next to the baby soft, freshly-shaven faces of the men in the commercials, who all seemed to arrive on the set directly from the pages of GQ magazine. For regular guys, it just felt like Gillette was imposing impossibly high standards. So I have to be incredibly good looking and dress exceedingly well, all while being a devoted and thoughtful husband, father, son, son-in-law, brother, brother-in-law, uncle and co-worker? Ah, for chrissakes. Who do these people think I am?
And yet, over the years, I've purchased the Gillette Atra, upgraded to the Gillette Sensor and went directly to the nearest Walgreen's for the Gillette Mach III. I think I may have missed one between the Mach III and the Fusion, but that's only because I sensed there was something very exciting arriving very shortly.
Naturally, the advertising for the Fusion is as dreadful as the Gillette track record. Seems to be shirtless men and fire and welding arcs and such. At least that's what I can remember. Watching it during the Olympics, I thought they were going for some kind of torch tie-in. Hard to be sure, really.
Anyway, I was undeterred. The Fusion, I thought, was the latest advance in shaving excellence and I must incorporate it into my morning regimen. Five blades! Plus a bonus blade! All floating on those tiny springs! It was another victory for the rigors of product development over the shallow efforts of advertising.
Then, via Gaping Void, I learned of something called Shave Blog. Apparently, the guy who writes Shave Blog had been on The Today Show recently, discussing his desire for the return of real shaving — badger hair bristle brushes, English shaving soap — to its rightful place among the manly arts. I was intrigued.
I found out the guy uses a vintage razor from the 1940s. I appreciated his thoughts on it versus the Fusion — his blade was machined from solid steel while the Fusion was pretty much flimsy plastic except for the blades themselves. Side by side, his vintage blade really did make the Fusion look like the Trans Am of razors. Hmm.
The long treatises on shaving on Shave Blog made me ponder the act of removing stubble in a way that millions of dollars in Gillette advertising never had. There was depth to the story. There were generous helpings of both emotion — be a man, dammit! — and logic.
So, quite suddenly, I've put my trip to Walgreen's on hold. If I can find the time, I may investigate the world of vintage razors. Can they, as Shave Blog claims, really grant me a closer and decidedly more comfortable shave?
For Gillette and P&G, it means the millions they've invested in crap advertising and great R&D has been wasted. The deeper connection created by a blog may have trumped it all.
Shudder, if you're a brand manager. Wince, if you're an old-fashioned advertising person. Then make friends, very quickly, with the new transparency and exchange of information.