Sorry Animal readers, this week my mind’s deeply in the gutter that runs between a woman’s breasts. But how could it not be, after ogling these astonishingly sexist Tiparillo ads from the 70s—when even club soda was sex. While your eyes can’t help but wander to the ladies’ gaping top openings, it is the copy that is truly embarrassing. Take the inappropriately-dressed dental hygienist and her phallic instrument, left: …”If she’s a bit of a kook, she’ll take it. If not, she’ll be flattered that you thought she was a bit of a kook…” Yes, nothing’s more flattering than being thought of as an absolute idiot. And then there’s our chilly violinist…her face says no, but her, uh, nakedness says yes. She’s ready to play, “no strings attached.” Jump for the third ad in the Tiparillo=penis campaign featuring a busty lab technician who’s “programmed and ready.”
(Click images to enlarge)
In the 1950s, How did bread-winning men and housecleaning women calmly and cheerfully co-exist like so many Ward and June Cleavers? Alcohol? Valium (not invented yet!)? Oral sex (not invented yet!)? No—they all just took Ivory soap baths. Apparently Ivory used to be infused with heroin. First the men (left): Look at that tense work face and depressing work place. “Lather up with great rich gobs (wonderful copy!) of pure Ivory lather…” and “You’re washing blues and troubles and worries away…It eases the surface tension of your skin (what bullshit!)—lets your taut tired nerves relax.” Then before pulling the plug, they jerked off. Next, the women (right): Yeah, don’t “ruin the evening,” Bitch! “try this pleasant treatment for ‘nerves’”—get your bon-bon eating ass into the tub with a cake of Ivory every afternoon. And then put on your fuck-me pumps and have dinner ready by 6. No, you can’t buy a new dress.
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