DIARY: I’m only a punter but...

Car ads. I’m in the market for a car at the moment, being a self- employed person, well, woman actually, with two spaniels and an ageing Ford and no nice fat company Mercedes to drive them about in. So, I look at car ads. The more I see, the more I hate them.

Car ads. I’m in the market for a car at the moment, being a self-

employed person, well, woman actually, with two spaniels and an ageing

Ford and no nice fat company Mercedes to drive them about in. So, I look

at car ads. The more I see, the more I hate them.



Women make up 40 per cent of the car-buying market, so you’d think the

morons who make these commercials would take account of this, then act

on it and not on their fantasies.



The Peugeot 306 is being blasted at us again. A skinny West Coast woman

and an English man meet in a sleazy underground car park and drive off

to one of my favourite songs, now ruined forever, for a hot encounter on

a beach. Probably in the Pacific. (So the account team can get a good

holiday in.) Turns out she’s the wife. God. Are we supposed to think

Peugeot 306 is sexy or something? Give us a break. We want a sodding

car, not a sex machine. I suppose it’s one better than the ad which uses

a cartoon Cupid.



Then there’s Papa and what’s-her-name. Renault Clio. It’s supposed to be

really popular with the punter. They must pay them to say this. Nobody

can actually like these ghastly people: smirking Papa and insouciant

daughter. Anything Renault is anathema. That man with the wife and her

reunion. Those priests.



Have you ever seen a woman of 25 driving one of these cars? Of course

you haven’t. They’re perfect granny-cars. You only have to look at the

styling to realise it’s your gran’s heart’s desire.



The more I look at these ads, the more I realise they’re just made by

men either to feed male fantasies or to feed whatever they think women

want from a car, seemingly sex, sex and more sex.



We don’t. We want something that will start every morning, that looks

good, that we can bung the kids, the dogs and the shopping into without

thinking where it’s all going to fit. Anyone who doesn’t have kids, dogs

and shopping has a company car, but then that’s another gripe.



Meanwhile, I’m off to look at an Audi, gumboots and Chanel in the middle

of a field. Yes, that’s me. Must have been a woman who thought this up.

And it’ll be at least 12 grand over my original budget. Now that’s

advertising.



Have you got something to rant about? Send your 400 words - no more, no

less, please - to Stefano Hatfield



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