It started one morning last month when I saw a picture of this vintage ad pop up in my Facebook feed on what felt like an unassuming Monday morning. I’d had my coffee, I’d answered my e-mails and slowly but surely that Monday-morning-feeling was creeping back in quietly as though it were a mixed drink and I the victim of its wrath. Then boom!
There she is, innocent little Eunice. Her mother had no idea she would become the generational bud of a misogynist joke that would never live down her participation in an advertising spot that promised her a lifetime supply of free bananas but instead provided her with nothing more, nothing less, than The Truth About Gag Reflexes. Who let the agencies of yore run these things?
In what version of reality could this young boy, dope-ish and cheeky with a smile that indicates much more about his future than I’m comfortable expounding upon, have successfully fed a banana to a young girl without having at least — at least — one eyebrow raised in response? Such questions led to an investigation that turned my dreary Monday morning into a vibrant Monday evening, Jell-O, fish soup, anti-feminist ads not withstanding.
Indeed, don’t you forget that chefs do everything (slide 16) but cook; that’s what wives are for!
And when they fuck up?
At least the beer is still alright.
I will admit that I find the coloration of these images highly intriguing — that the positioning and sort of organized clutter indicated beneath their hollow messages please my eyes in the same way that, like, a MiraLAX bottle does, and I don’t think we have to get into what’s wrong with what the world looked like. We don’t even have to talk about how this exact conversation will pan out 25 years from now given our current resources, when, ostensibly speaking, men are taking back meninism. So instead, let’s just click. We can click and laugh and feel grateful that though we live in a weird-ass world, at least it’s not that one.
Also, though: little fish, big sauce! Genius.