When Girl-Power Marketing Accidentally Does the Opposite

I have long believed I am a psychologist or sociologist trapped in a PR gal's body. Or perhaps it's just that I was drawn to a career in marketing comms because I am so fascinated by how marketing can make people believe and even do things they may not have believed or done otherwise. Behavioral psychology. And maybe that's also why since college I have had a thing about gender-based targeting.

Check out my latest post at ModernMom.com, where I (probably not very popularly) discuss what I see as an big miss (though in fairness I think it was inadvertent) by a toy brand trying to debunk the myth that only boys should like engineering. I just don't like the approach this particular brand *coughGoldieBloxcough* took.

Do you agree? Disagree? Tell me about it.

I'm Alive!

It's been a fast summer. So fast, I never did find time to tell you about it here.

But I'm back now, looking forward to the fall and many changes in our neck of the woods. More to come on that. In the meantime, feel free to start visiting me again more regularly and I'll promise to keep the cobwebs clear here.

Deal?

And while we're agreeing, I hope you'll agree to come check out my latest post at ModernMom.com where I revisit my undergrad (ahem, honors-level, ahem) two-year independent study on the effects of advertising to kids in perpetuating gender stereotypes. It's a topic that has stuck with me, and now as a marketer and a mother of two little boys, it pops into my brain time and again. I'm talking about a recent observation of that research in my real life and would love to know what you think.

Dads in Ads are Pitching to Moms

Dad gone ad! Sorry, couldn't resist.

Check out my latest post at ModernMom.com where I give props to my loving husband who thankfully signed up for teamwork when he took me on as his wife.

And tell me, can you tell when a TV ad is obviously intended to target moms? Do you find yourself seeing more dad actors in ads? And have you ever considered that perhaps those dads are aiming their scripted messages at the moms on the other side of the screen?

P.S. Well-played, Google Chrome and your very "Dear" Sophie. Very "Dear" indeed.

Ads Gone Wild

Have you ever pondered how fine the line separating "edgy" from "offensive" might be? Perhaps it's just large enough to house "confusing" and "strange" but not quite wide enough for the multitude of specifics you'd have to include if "upside down cow udders making peace signs" was to be encompassed there as well? On that fine line? And of course you have to take into consideration the fact that the line is surely different from country to country, culture to culture. I mean, obvs.

All that to say... what was McDonald's in Finland thinking with this print ad? Moms, does this inspire you to swing the mini-van through McD's drive thru for a real milkshake? Hey, it's got double the flavor after all!

Moo. Or whatever Finnish cows say.

Are you better than Target?

I am not crafty. I aspire to be more into mommy/son art projects, but I have two hurdles: 1) kids who aren't much into coloring (which of course triggers the 'red flag' area of my paranoid psyche) and 2) this ongoing battle with Father Time who keeps telling me he won't add even one minute to my day. 24 hours?! Pffsh. Please. (P.S. Next election, I'm voting for Mother Time, who would clearly understand my needs.)

But I digress. Today, this article floated across my desk. You may (or may not) be surprised to know this kind of controversy is not an anomoly in our industry. Moms are always getting pissed about ads (hey, me included!). But the criteria for the crankiness is all over the map. More than once the trigger point has been about a mom's attempt to make something for her child, which (according to the ad) completely displeased the child, and made mom look like a fool. Or at least out of touch with her child.

Shall I remind you that ads exist to make you want to buy something to make yourself better/happier/prettier/smarter/ -er/ -er/...?

Today's "crassly offensive" case in point: Target.



If I had a little more time and creativity enabling my own handiwork, I might be miffed by this. After all, I don't want a major corporation telling me my loving, hand-made efforts for my child are useless.

At the same time, I think this spot could have saved itself from controversy with a very simple acting shift. If the mom had a different air about her - maybe if she didn't look so proud of her apparently inadequate creation but rather gave her son a look that said, "Dude, what is happening here? Grab my purse, we're headed to Target to remedy this," then the brand would put itself on mom's side rather than taking the superior-to-mom path of putting us all down and implying that in order to best show our children love, we must buy, buy, buy. All without compromising either the sale or the mother/son relationship.

Who doesn't want or need a teammate in motherhood? Come on, Target, be a team player.

Wishing this was a joke...

...but it's actually an advertorial (a paid advertisement that is presented to look like an editorial article). The text instructs women to ask for a raise by following simple steps, starting with step No. 1: "showering with Summer's Eve Femine Wash or throwing a packet of Summer's Eve Feminine Cleansing Cloths into your bag for a quick freshness pick-me-up during the day."

(Because who doesn't associate feminine hygeine with getting that much-deserved raise or promotion? Surely your boss does?)

While I don't know who created this placement (or who reviewed and approved it), fingers on Facebook are being pointed at men. It doesn't really matter which gender is actually to blame. Someone simply missed the mark. Which begs the question of the day: is it really that hard to hit?

Is this offensive to you?

When will VW get the mom memo?

The soccer mom is dead. She is buried next to the Astro mini-van. And if she wasn’t, I would kill her after watching videos like the one featured in this recent article.

I wasn’t sure whether I should feel offended or annoyed at the video, which is marketing the VW Routan. So I felt both.

The mom in question has an annoying mom-jean, bouncing around, hugging strangers kind of persona. Of course she speaks with a northern Midwest accent, youbetcha. To make it worse, this soccer mom has forgotten her children who are sitting on a street curb alone in the rain.
Did VW miss a little what-not-to-do-when-marketing-to-moms case study called Motrin Moms? Moms don’t like snark. They don’t want to be portrayed as disregarding their children. They certainly don’t want to be shown has having half a brain. They are tech-savvy, empowered multi-taskers in charge of the household after all.

For Pete’s sake, how many times are we going to have to keep regurgitating the Motrin Moms case before other major brands come around?

And they probably aren’t self-identifying as soccer moms anymore, even though kids’ soccer may very well be a big deal at home. Research has uncovered more than 50 mom sub-segments. Yet decades after the birth and death of the Soccer Mom, we still see her starring in mom-focused campaigns.

The Routan mom should be wielding a smart phone (not a clipboard!) where she manages the family calendar and 'to-dos.' And said to-do list wouldn’t include “don’t forget children.” She should be trendy (like her Routan?) and socially appropriate.

Of course moms appreciate humor in marketing. But it’s just not funny when the target is mom and particularly one we can’t identify with. We need to laugh with her; not at her.

Is this the consumer VW folks see when a mom walks into a dealership? Take the sterotype-colored glasses off, VW marketers. Not to mention the fact that if this is the type of mom driving a Routan, do you really think that’s the type of driver persona I want to identify with?

When did making-fun-of-mom become a marketing strategy?

So many questions. Such high blood pressure. (sigh)

Does Your Child Like Square Butts?

A couple weeks ago, Hubby and I were wrapped up in our weekly "Lost" watching ritual (truly the only show we both are addicted to - between E! News and ESPN, we somehow meet in the middle at "Lost") and out of nowhere we were slapped by it. The dancing king mascot. The hotties stuffing phone books into their Daisy Duke shorts. The Sir-Mix-a-Lot (he’s a rapper, mom) cameo. The demoralization of a beloved cartoon character. Oh yeah, and Burger King wants us to buy kids meals.

Huh?

Yeah, you know – kids and square butts. I always think of the two together. You don’t?

Actually, I should mention that we don’t use the word “butt” in our house. It’s “bottom.” That’s my mother coming out of me. Which I am fine with.

I digress. Sitting there, still slightly confused as usual by the current "Lost" storyline, and suddenly finding ourselves even more confused by the use of phone books inside shorts and Sir-Mix-a-Lot in an ad, we turned to each other with furrowed brows and asked, “Was that a commercial for a KIDS MEAL?”

It was.

As I anticipated, the next day the blogosphere was abuzz. Moms were outraged, not only at Burger King for its obvious lack of appropriateness in kid-marketing tactics, but also at Nickelodeon for offering Sponge Bob up for such a crude spot that objectifies women. I mean, if I want my toddlers to learn about objectifying women, I’d expect that kind of education from MTV or "The Girls Next Door." Not you, Nick.

And then, it happened again. Last night, a couple weeks after our first square butt encounter, we saw it again. And this time, even Hubby was perplexed: “I can’t believe they haven’t pulled that ad.”

Note to Burger King: even my testosterone-filled husband finds your kids meal ad offensive. Something is really off here.

Other folks think we should all lighten up. What do you think? Should the fact that Burger King at least got people talking be considered a win? Or, was the hype worth the associated negativity? The use of Sponge Bob and tape measures sizing up female dancers’ square tushes certainly didn’t make me think about veering my car of toddlers towards the BK drive thru. You?

Learning to Pitch

When my sister and I were young, we had three channels to watch on one TV in our farmhouse in rural Missouri. Weekend choices were typically sports that we weren’t into or infomercials. This was of course all before we moved into town and suddenly had *gasp!* cable and my mother had MTV ‘scrambled’ for fear it would turn us into rebel promiscuous teenagers.

One lazy afternoon camped in front of that TV in the basement, we saw it. We became enthralled. We could make our own fruit roll ups. We could make banana chips. We could even make beef jerky. Did I just say that? You’d better believe it. WE COULD MAKE OUR OWN BEEF JERKY!

It was the Ronco Food Dehydrator. We were sold.We memorized those message points, relayed so melodically from that oh-no-she-is-not-scripted hostess. We were as amazed at the demos as was that of-course-they’re-not-actors audience. We readied ourselves and went in for the pitch.

To mom.

We sat her down on the couch and convinced her that we would eat oh-so healthfully since all of our snacks would be sugar-free dehydrated fruit and such. We would waste less produce because once it started giving those about-to-start-turning-brown signals, we would just chop it up and make banana fruit or dried tomatoes. Or whatever. And we would make our own – healthy – fruit roll-ups! We would save money! And it’s so easy to clean! And so many trays – you can dehydrate so much at once! It’s a wave of the future – right here on the farm! We HAVE. TO. GET. IT!

She listened. She processed. She even had questions. But how much electricity does it use? Oh yes, she played right along. Except we were serious.

She must have admired the effort. The pitch. She made the toll-free call. We were in.

It came in the mail a little while later. We did make the banana chips, though they were a little more gooey than chippy. And we made the tomatoes. We put them in plastic baggies and snacked on dried tomatoes – because we could. We had a Ronco Food Dehydrator so we could snack on weird things like that that kids just do not snack on. Never got around to the fruit roll-ups or the beef jerky (can’t imagine why – I didn’t even learn how to brown hamburger until my senior year of college, yes I’m admitting that). But it was great.

Many years later, I gifted it to a friend in exchange for helping us move into an apartment. He was a fraction as excited as we were on that presentation day.

And now here I am in PR. Thanks Ronco Food Dehydrator.

And thanks, mom.

DVR: One of Many Mom Superpowers

Could DVR prevent the ‘gimmies’ evoked by commercials?

The older Hawklet has only recently learned what a commercial is. Watching a show he was particularly in to recently (God only knows what that was if not on PBS), a commercial appeared and he promptly commanded me to put his show back on. Sorry, bud, but if this mom was truly that powerful, I’d be doing a lot more than just skipping over commercials. I explained that I had no control over this interruption, and by the way, it is called a commercial. “A com-MERCIAL?” he asked, volume crescendoing as he elongated his pronunciation of this new word.

Hmmm…did I want him to be more aware of commercials? Not particularly. Had I just encouraged him to tune in to this newfound phenomenon? Ugh. I suddenly sort of regretted drawing his attention to them.

I also realized two things in the brief course of this exchange: 1) being a conscious consumer is definitely a learned behavior, 2) DVR might be one of the most mom-friendly inventions of the last several years.

We sheltered our Hawklet from too much TV-watching in the beginning stages of our parenthood, fearful of ‘those’ studies that ‘those’ third-party research institutes that I now can’t name offhand said would give him ADD. And, I am that nerd who took on a two-year independent research study as an undergrad focused on the impact that advertisements during children’s programming have on perpetuating gender and racial stereotypes. Gender and racial stereotypes and my Hawklets don’t mix. And ADD scares me.

And besides cautions around greed, ADD, gender stereotypes and racial profiling (as if that isn’t enough!), a recent report from the Center for Media Research pointed to the fact that even commercials embedded within sports programming are unsafe for kids. They are violent and sex-crazed. More characteristics with which my Hawklets don’t mix!

Did you notice the number of times someone was flung from a window, hit by a bus, trampled by an animal, or generally knocked unconscious in commercials that aired during this year’s Super Bowl? Ever considered whether those 30 seconds could be causing your little one stress? Me neither.

But this recent study showed that one in six ads aired during a football game is inappropriate for kids. This is Sunday afternoon television, folks, not after-the-kids-should-be-in-bed-anyway kind of stuff.

DVR can save us from fretting over such issues. So now it has received a spot on my favorites list. (And if you’ve been following along, that means it falls in line right after drive-thrus and VapoRub.)

Will those seemingly harmless interruptions during the quickly approaching March Madness spill over into your little ones’ psyches? Perhaps DVR could make your household’s March a little less Mad. You go, Supermom.

Reflections on My Reflection

When you look in the mirror, do you like what you see?

It’s one of the things I love to watch my Hawklets do – they get excited to see themselves in the mirror. They stick out their tongues. They smile. They point. They’ve never done anything any differently when they gaze at their reflections but stop for a minute, linger and flirt with themselves. They have absolutely no reason to want to change anything in that vision bouncing back to them. But what about the rest of us? At some point we lose this love affair with our reflections. We succumb to marketing messages that we need this in order to be a better wife, mother, person. We need that to look better, dress better, spend more, eat less. We need to change. We are not good enough.

I don’t want these messages polluting my Hawklets’ love affair with themselves.

Over the past few years, Dove has done a ground-breaking job attempting to make us all feel better about what we’ve got in a way that sells soap. Remember when sex sold? You know, the age-old marketing ploy that robbed you of your self-esteem? Your desire to gaze into the mirror and smile back? It’s not a new campaign, but the genius inside the reverse psychology Dove packaged up into a marketing powerhouse continues to wow me.

When asked, moms have actually named Dove as the no. 1 brand for health. For health? For health. This is not a brand prescribed by doctors. Unless you’re battling chronic dirt, soap can’t cure what ails you. Yes, hand-washing is important in germ fighting, but we’re talking about soap…shampoo…lotion…these things are not meant to remedy the ‘sick.’ But Dove is the perfect example that savvy marketing and brand positioning can elevate you to the perception that you are about more than being clean, smelling good, and accomplishing a daily ritual. Savvy marketing can make moms think you provide them with the balance for which they are constantly searching. That you can make them emotionally feel something. That you offer heightened self esteem. That you offer an escape from pressures to be perfect. These are heady issues. And this is soap.

Wow.

Dove, on behalf of moms everywhere who delight in seeing their kids love the little people who look back at them from inside the mirror, thank you and keep it up.

The Super-est Part of the Bowl

On the tails of a night of eye-peeling television advertisement watching, the mom marketer in me is stuck somewhere between giving pats on backs and putting people in time out.

The first commercial of the Super Bowl following the National Anthem was for … wait for it … Avon. Avon? As you can imagine, the men in my family room weren’t necessarily taking note. I think rather than spur makeup and jewelry party chatter, that Avon spot gave the guys a hall pass to the kitchen where the Bud Light sat awaiting some attention. For me, though, that Avon spot, so carefully placed at the pivotal moment between anthem and kick-off was the manifestation of what we know from research: that women are indeed in charge at home. We are the spenders. We are the decision makers. And we are watching sports, too, especially when we can make an event of it because we are the ones responsible for the family’s fun and togetherness. We organized the parties, we bought and prepared the snacks, we cleaned with our household products (although you know that at the Hawks house, Hubby and I cleaned together).

Yes, we females were marketed to in the Super Bowl! New proof we are slowly taking over world domination! And putting the ever-so-obviously-female Avon ad aside for a moment, women weren’t necessarily left out of the rest of the equation last night. Budweiser did its thing to capture its softer side with a horsey love story. Pedigree depicted women and some beloved, though oversized pets.

The problem, for me, was that while women were given some advertiser love, moms weren’t. Yes, women like animals. (Alert the media!) But what are moms looking for, separate from women generally? According to national researchers, like those at the Marketing to Moms Coalition, there are big differences. Last night’s major ad players didn’t seem to care.

Where were the funny mom moments? The spit up? The poop? If I’ve learned one thing from motherhood, particularly as a mom of toddler boys, it’s that bodily functions can be funny. (And sometimes those functions best be funny just so you don’t kill yourself.) And if I’ve learned one thing about marketing to moms, it’s that moms want more mom-centric humor in advertising. They want to know that advertisers understand their trials and tribulations in a humorous way, a way that includes kids, and that acknowledges the many hats moms have to wear.

So, I lift my Budweiser to you, advertisers. May you become a little more intimately familiar with me – and all my world-dominating mommy cohorts – before next year’s big game.

Thank you for listening. Apology accepted. Now give me a hug and time out will be over!

Why Did I Buy That?

I am not one to have a lot of buyer’s remorse. As a woman who literally rushes home from shopping trips to show Hubby Hawks how much I saved versus full price, (yes I have an affinity for Tuesday Morning and TJ Maxx), how could I possibly have buyer’s remorse? I am Mrs. Bargain Hunter, and if I regret a purchase, who cares? It was 80% off after all! I am actually saving money when I’m spending money! (Hubby is rolling his eyes at this moment.)

But in looking through pictures of the Hawklets recently, and at the toys, clothing, and surroundings of stuff in the photos, I started to ponder what drove me to purchase some of the more obscure items we own, and particularly those I select for the babes – you know, the things that you don’t research, compare, discuss, and belabor, like a refrigerator or a new car. The stuff you give a half-glance and throw in a cart while trying to keep two little boys from running off to another aisle or toppling over the side of the cart onto their heads.

Why did I choose those footed pajamas? Why those sippy cups? How did we end up with that particular toy car? Why are we so loyal to Tide?

It’s not that I have a problem with any of these things. I just wonder how they won me over -- how they beat out the other options to make it into my cart and eventually into my household, into our routine. How they wooed my psyche.

What drives my purchase decisions? I spend my professional days researching and strategizing around how moms decide to buy certain brands at certain stores at certain prices – the why, when, where, and how of it all. What moves me? And particularly, when I’m not paying attention?

Research shows word of mom is critical in this equation. But thanks to both anecdotal and academic data, I know it’s just that – an equation. One piece of the pie just isn’t going to satisfy me. I am no robot mom under the control of another mom, emulating everything she does or says.

But yet I am still under some amount of control by the especially savvy marketers who know that as a mom, I am more likely to pick up the thing that makes me feel like I am making the right decision for my child, the right decision for our budget, that is the right color and has intriguing merchandising, that I’ve seen other moms in my circle using or talking about, that is reinforced by some level of advertising, that has claims I can believe in thanks to appropriate PR (and give or take other various factors depending on the brand or product).

The things all around us in the Hawks household have somehow gotten it right – that mom equation. They won out over alternative options. They attracted my mommy hand, plucking them off the shelf, tossing them into our cart, bringing them into our home, into our routine.

And maybe – hopefully – they even gave me a new opportunity to show Hubby how much money I saved by buying them!

Woe is Mom

Recently, I read this (albeit feminist) article about moms in advertisements. While at first I found myself rolling my eyes at the seemingly age-old argument that women are too often diminished in media to being their husbands’ slaves, yadda yadda, I came to realize that I couldn’t think of a single ad on TV right now or in the immediate past that mirrored me or my lifestyle as a mom and wife.

Hubby Hawks and I do our grocery shopping together. We *usually* clean the house together. Okay, sometimes it’s because I’m feeling tired and bossy, but he wants to get stuff done just as quickly as I do and we both like to live in a clean home. We equally want our children to live in a clean home. And by the way, we respect each other. Have you ever noticed an ad for a household cleaning product that depicted both mom and dad cleaning together? No, seriously, I’m dying to know if one exists.

My favorite is the Windex ad, in which the wife cleans the windows while the husband naps and then he wakes up and thinks he is in the wrong house. Bingo! Get the heck outta here if you’re not helping! Quite a strategy, Mrs. Windex!

Maybe Swiffer could think about an ad showing mom dusting while dad mops the floors. As in, at the same time. As in, equality. As in, this millennium. Bonus points – you get to showcase more of your products in the same 30 seconds!

And where are those commercial dads while the commercial moms are cleaning? Are they at work? Are they at the bar? Are they building a new Habitat home? In my mind, the commercial moms are cleaning on weekends. You know, in Commercialville. But that’s because weekend cleaning makes sense to me, as that’s when I do it. You know, in Reality. Surely commercial moms work during the week, and have fun with girlfriends and devote time to their favorite causes as well. They’re not just scrubbing and polishing and waxing and washing over and over like Pleasantville robots. After all, their homes are usually spaciously gorgeous, so if they’re not working, I’d love to know what those commercial dads are getting paid!

Are we the weird ones? Or are those antiquated advertisers?