Arizona Daily Wildcat
Illustration by Holly Randall
Wednesday, September 15, 2003
This week, the ad people at Victoria's Secret thought it would be a great idea to drop one thousand pink and white polka-dotted dogs on campus in order to introduce their new line, appropriately entitled "Pink." We've asked our columnists what they think about this display of shameless marketing and stuffed animals.
Scavenger hunts for men
The last time I found something worth picking up was yesterday when I stumbled across a half-full, cherry flavored tube of Chapstick by the Student Union Memorial Center. That was a lucky day.
But now thanks to Victoria's Secret, there is something even better for me to pick up. That's right, small pink dogs covered in white polka dots. Holy wicker baskets, I think Ms. Victoria read my mind because I seriously cannot wait to collect up those supple, cuddly little pooches. Cough, sarcasm, cough.
If my picture does not clarify it yet, then I would like my audience to know that I am in fact a guy and finding pinkish, chicken pox-infested look-a-like dogs just do not get me as excited as they used to.
Now I if were to find steaks, propane-powered barbecues and footballs around campus, I would be extremely elated. I wish the Sports Authority or RadioShack would leave free junk around, but I guess I can just settle for stuffed doggies this time. What I do not understand though is why Victoria's Secret chose the dog as a mascot for their promotional strategy.
A dog is a man's best friend, not a girl's. Why must a corporate business take the sanctity of man's best friend and turn it into their own profitable workhorse? Victoria's Secret should have chosen a bunny or a kitten, but definitely not the dog. Anything but the dog, the dog is ours!
Victoria's Secret crossed the line and this does not bode well with me. I did not want to have to go this far, but it appears that I am going to have to boycott Victoria's Secret due to this egregious offense. All I have left to say is that I am emotionally scarred due to Victoria's Secret's doggy logic behind their promotional strategy. They couldn't have just left the dog alone.
Moe Naqvi is a physiological sciences freshman. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Be grateful these dogs don't poo
Have you ever been forced to carefully maneuver around piles of dog crap, like a first grader playing hopscotch?
Then you've never been to Madrid.
Have you ever dropped an orange peel, and then seen two dogs fight over which one gets to eat it?
Then you've never been to Athens.
Have you ever seen traffic disrupted by two dogs procreating in the center lane? Then you've never been to Arusha.
Man's best friend? In the United States yes, but for many in the rest of the world, nothing would be more pleasing than to have streets free of stray dogs.
Heartless? Hardly. You would think the same thing if you saw these dogs. They don't have names like Candy, Tasha, Buttons and Sophie. They've never taken a bath, unless you count the rain. When you touch them, you get an oily residue on your hands.
Their sides usually have one or more cuts. Many limp.
But nothing is worse than their nipples. Something about sick stray dogs causes them to get crazy deformed nipples. Long ones, puffed up ones, bloody ones. It's not pretty.
They're really not at all like the dogs we have here in the United States. They're more like pigeons, but big pigeons that can't go away and sit on a telephone pole.
People are not nice to them, leaving them torn between begging for attention and hiding.
And now the UA has 1,000 dogs hiding on campus. Oh no. What are they like?
Soft, squishy, thong-fetching. Okay, whew, we're safe.
Ryan Johnson is an international studies and economics junior. He can be reached at email@example.com.
Sex doesn't sell quite as well anymore
What is white and pink and squishy all over? Surely not a blushing Bob Dylan.
However, if I were he, I would be. To think, that a bunch of dogs - stuffed, pink and white polka-dotted dogs - would do better at advertising for Victoria's Secret than the sexy but mature Dylan. But along this line, when did the selling of women's bras and panties need the presence of Dylan and not just frames of barely-clad women wearing angel wings?
In other words, when did cute old men and little pink dogs replace the classical appeal of sex? Surely no one can claim that stuffed dogs and Bob Dylan are sexy, can they? (OK, don't answer that - we really don't need to know about your fetishes.)
It looks as though sex isn't selling as well as people would like, so in comes help from cute old men and little pink dogs. First, we had Bob Dole selling pills for impotence, and then came Dylan in a Victoria's Secret commercial. And now we have stuffed animals. What's next -Donald Rumsfeld appearing in Calvin Klein commercials? Not that I am entirely opposed to that.
Regardless, this shift in advertising from titillating to pedestrian indicates a nationwide trend that sex isn't what it used to be, that something extra is needed. And on campus this week, that extra thing was polka-dotted and stuffed.
So, as this new era of advertising is ushered in, let's bring on Donald Rumsfeld.
Laura Keslar is a pre-pharmacy junior. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Sadly, This Stunt Will Work
So the entirety of the UA campus has been turned into one big corporate publicity stunt for Victoria's Secret? Unfortunately, I'm not all that surprised. At least this stunt is only a bunch of ugly stuffed dogs. How long until some company gets really bold? How long until Nike burns a giant swoosh into the mall? What are the odds that the next dorm to open will be named Nokia Hall? OK, so maybe that's going a little far.
As for here and now, you have to give kudos to whoever devised this promotional stunt for Victoria's Secret. It's working. Just look at this page and see how we are all writing about it.
But why did they choose UA? "Team Pink" campus rep Anna Suarez apparently thinks it's because "everyone's always outside" here. Sorry, but that's not it.
Victoria's Secret chose UA because of our high concentration of rich sorority girls. I'm not trying to insult or stereotype sorority life - that's just who their target market is. Take a walk down Second Street. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the place with an unusually high concentration of blue BMWs with Greek letters painted in the windows and pink fuzzy handcuffs hanging from the rearview mirror might be a good place to sell a new line of underwear for college women called "Pink."
Brett Berry is a regional development junior who still wouldn't mind winning a scooter or having an excuse to go to Victoria's Secret. He can be reached at email@example.com.
Five good places, five bad places
Though girls will no doubt be sprinting all over to find these disgustingly pink dog toys, I marvel at the stupidity of Victoria's Secret's marketing campaign and will wait to hear when their marketing chief is fired.
But, with the number of women roaming campus in mind, I'd like to suggest five good places for Victoria's Secret to hide the dogs and five bad places to hide them.
Five Good Places:
Random house parties. Guys are tired of too many dudes and too few women at these things.
Los Betos. A place open 24 hours that caters to intoxicated students at 2 a.m. deserves the business.
The Rec Center Weight Room. It gives the guys with self-esteem problems more women to show off in front of.
Fraternity houses. The only time you see sober girls coming out of a fraternity house is the next morning.
The Delta Gamma Sorority house. They already fight about who's skinniest anyway. Why not give 'em something new?
Five Bad Places:
The Communications building. Like they need more bimbos walking through those halls.
The fourth floor of the library. That would just be a sick, sick joke for the Victoria's Secret people to play. Isn't it already bad enough up there?
Any math or science classroom. Talk about a waste of good lingerie.
Star Ranch. Thinking it's an underage drinking party, the cops will just arrest everyone.
Kobe Bryant's house.
Good luck to everyone in their quest for fashion.
Dan McGuire is a political science and journalism senior. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Trying to live out my own "Roman Holiday"
Like many other females out there, I fell in love with film star Audrey Hepburn, she of the long neck and huge doe eyes.
It all started out with "Breakfast at Tiffany's," and I've been hooked ever since. One of my favorites, though, has to be her first starring role in the 1953 film "Roman Holiday." It is quite simply one of the most romantic films that I have ever seen, next to of course "Lady and the Tramp."
But, as much as I love to ruminate about my life, there is a point to this foray into my infatuations with dead actresses from Belgium. Now, due to the fact that the good people at Victoria's Secret have hidden about 1,000 hideous pink and white polka dotted dogs around campus, I may have a chance to simulate my own version of "Roman Holiday."
Now, I really don't care about being a new owner of rather overpriced and uncomfortable underpants. What I do care about is the fact that whoever does get their hands on one of these stuffed abominations of the canine family gets a chance at winning a Vespa motor scooter, just the kind of vehicle that Gregory Peck carted Audrey Hepburn in around in the streets of Rome.
Granted, if I did win the Vespa, the city of Tucson doesn't quite have the same atmosphere as the eternal city. Trying to find an equivalent to the statue of the Mouth of Truth, a statue which would bite off your hand if you told a lie, would probably would be just me sticking my hand in a glory hole at the corner Circle K, but a girl can dream, can't she?
Susan Bonicillo is a junior majoring in English. Anyone wishing to play Gregory Peck in her fantasy "Roman Holiday" can email her at email@example.com.