Jackie McGregor: What happened to the idea that sex sells? Please bring it back!

I’m a very squeamish and rather prim person. I have no desire to witness anyone sitting on the loo, if it were a spectator sport we wouldn’t have toilet doors! Nor do I want to get up close and personal with anyone’s armpits! I found these two adverts unpleasant, yet a more distasteful one was to come!

My family and I were enjoying lunch whilst watching a TV quiz show at the weekend. In the ad break a lady seated on the toilet appeared, pants around her ankles, the dulcet sound of her passing water for an unusually long time, assaulted our ears. Other women stood outside the loo listening in apparent envy, as she peed aggressively to her heart’s content.

Never have I stood in the ladies’, coveting another woman’s urination duration! What was this ad for? It didn’t tell us anything, it was just another excuse for invading the last bastion of privacy, the lavatory! It turned out it was for a drinking bottle!

We all stared uncomfortably at our plates around the dinner table, suddenly our pea soup didn’t seem quite so appetising!

The advertising industry has taken a swerve towards gritty realism. They are treating us to body parts, scars, oxters, periods in glorious technicolour, large, undulating backsides and ladies sitting on the loo.

They claim the trend in these ads featuring everyday life content, is down to the fact that we’re living in troubled times with the cost-of-living crisis and the rise of technology.

This is making us feel vulnerable; therefore, brands are trying to tap into our need for human connection and the reassurance that offers us.

I don’t agree! These realism ads don’t make me feel connected, just embarrassed and disgusted!

My all-time favourite ads were for Milk Tray and Harp (the camel one.) Personally, I love an advert with a good slogan. For years we uttered the immortal words, “And all because the lady loves Milk Tray,” in jest.

We’d often hear a joker in a bar ask for, “a pint of Harp and a packet of dates please Lawrence.” Remember mimicking “Fred there’s no bread!” when you ran out? I can still sing every word to the finger of fudge advert!

I yearn for the golden days of seductive advertising, the Milk Tray man, the diet Coke break, the Cadbury’s flake girl. I for one, don’t want gritty realism, I want escapism and fun. Call me old fashioned, but I loathe being subjected to the sight of stubbly oxters or the sound of a woman urinating like a Shire horse!