Ads From The Old Days – Part 2: Cookery

In this second post in this series looking back on old magazine ads, we look at these food, drink and cooking-related ads from the mid-1980s. All of these came from two issues of A La Carte, an up-market British cookery and gourmet magazine, one from 1985 and one from 1986.

I found these ads interesting because they had one thing in common. Back then, apparently, ad writers favoured lengthy copy. Sometimes whole pages full of paragraphs. Huge blocks of text for the shoulder-padded public to wade through. Perhaps in the '80s people had more time to peruse lengthy writings about each product. Perhaps ad writers now are just lazy and slap a web address in, figuring the potential customer will find out the product gen in their own time. Both theories have their adherents.

I've arranged the ads below in order from least to most wordy. The word count for each one is given. (Yes, I'm sad enough to count all the words.) Also the photos aren't great. What, you expect me to scan all these?

Only 32 words in this ad for a brandy-like drink but I included it purely for the photo of the couple at the bottom. This is how sophisticated people hooked up in the '80s, kids.

This bacon ad has only 95 words, quite brief for the '80s but still too verbose by today's standards. I only included it because it's worded in such a strange way. Perhaps bacon brought out the copywriter's poetic side?

95 words again, and they're all in French, which is unusual – or maybe the readership were assumed to be bilingual. Hey, it was 28 years ago, what do you want? I like the expression on the woman's face as she listens to Monsieur Beaujolais there bang on about dejeuner. People were more polite in the '80s, too.

With that huge tagline at the top, the paragraph doesn't look much, but it's still 140 words all in. Ah, clean electric power. I wish my stovetop looked like that.

A 'wedding photo album' format gives this ad for falling-down juice some charm. More charm than those who consume the product, at any rate. Only a small paragraph at the top, but the photo captions bump the word count up to 142.

I had to include this close-up of one of those pics above. Saucy stuff, eh? Of course, weddings are boring, but at least you might see things like this once the ordeal's over.

Amidst the rows of teacups the eye has to run the length of this double page spread and back four times to get through this 150-word essay. Is it worth it? Well read the thing and find out!

Now we're into 'more text than images' territory – something that is almost non-existent now. 163 words to get through here.

The photo dwarfs the copy but there's still 166 words about bread here. Hey, I made some bread today. Ain't that somethin'.

The 168 words here take the form of a poem. A unique approach, and this was on the inside cover, but would you read it all? (I did.)

Big pic on the left, 178 words on the right. The whole 'flowers' thing is just odd.

Another one from Cook Electric; 183 words. You do use an electric cooker, right? I hate cooking, so don't ask my opinion.

Ouch, diving into a grapefruit would sting your eyes to buggery. Don't try it. Despite a very eye-catching large image, they crammed 201 words into this one.

Interesting copy, but very long at 233 words. Most of the items being touted here are de rigueur these days. Everyone's got one of those cheese slicer things. I still like it though; there's a certain charm in the way this ad cheerfully extols the virtues of various kitchen utensils. This could also be the only place where the word 'aluminiuming' appeared in print.

As you get through this 316-word essay, try not to get hungry by looking at that cake.

Get comfy, you're up for a 442-word story about tea. I find it interesting, but then I drink tea every day, and don't mind learning about how this company got started. Also, really old photos draw the eye. The one here is from 1902.

And clocking in at a massive 461 words is this ad giving all the info you ever needed about this whisking blender thingy. Everything it does is plainly stated here, if you've got the time to get through it. Can you imagine a print ad with this much text now? No, everyone's too busy playing with themselves to take the time to get clued in on a product they are considering buying. Must distract them with brightly-coloured fluff. Also, iPhones really aren't all that great. Buy a blender instead.

Ads From The Old Days – Part 1: Video Games

In this first instalment looking at print advertising from the past, I examine a variety of video game ads dating from 1992 to 1995. I know I've referred to it as "the old days" in this post's title, but it was a couple of decades ago now. Personally I can remember those years clearly, but if you weren't born yet, I suppose they really are the old days. Although the great god Google Analytics (whom all of us Blogspot drones are beholden to) can tell us accurate stats about our viewers, it cannot tell us how old they are, so "old days" it is. Still, away with such small talk. Let's take a look at how they used to sell stuff in the British gaming press back then.

This is what passed for video game promo in 1994, kids. Now, you'd have screenshots galore, release date prominent, and a nicely Photoshopped logo, with a URL in there maybe. But back then – console logos, game title, stock art of the main character. Done. Next.

Haha, "cruisin' for a squeaky voice". It's funny 'cause 'e's gonna cut yer nadgers orf with a pair of garden shears. Anyway, what stands out to me about this one is that "Gus The World's Greatest Gamer" clearly rips off was inspired by Fido Dido, a character created about 8 years before Gus threatened to castrate those who only moderately liked Flashback.

Sega's handheld console, the Game Gear, could be turned into a portable TV. Good reception not guaranteed, of course. What's interesting here is that the kid is watching Blaze Glory which, if you click to enlarge, can be seen to be rated 'AO'. (That's 'adults only', the early '90s Australian equivalent of the M-rating.) Beats me why a kid in 1993 would be watching an old Western film from 1969 on a Game Gear screen, but who am I to question the machinations of the Sega propaganda department?

"The throbbing power between your legs" eh, let's not 'ave any of that sort of talk 'ere lads, there might be ladies present. Ha! As if. Anyway, if you once again click to enlarge and look closely, you'll see that the joypad ports on the front of the console have nothing plugged into them. Which makes me wonder where the joypad is actually plugged in. Let's wonder no further and move on.

I have no idea what this means.

Sometimes advertisements take the form of a comic strip. Nearly all the time they are cringe-worthy and incredibly puerile. There aren't many ways to disguise blatant propaganda in comics, so these ones cheerfully admit they are shameless sales tools (like their creators) and get on with the job. In any case the above is a typically cheeseballeriffic example, appearing in the very mag it was advertising, and it seems whoever put it there also saw fit to print it on the other side of the very same page.

Another example of how not to do comic strip advertising, although this one is done in fumetti style. Whoever did the layout decided to dispense with the dull rigours of having the speech balloons follow in logical order from left to right. Whatever. If you ever see 'Great Guy', give him a slap 'round the face from me.

Now this is how it's done. The then-Tottenham Court Road Computer Exchange got cartoonist Charlie Brooker to do this strip, entitled Here's Toby!!, for a year or so. There was a new one each month – none of this recycled strip nonsense. Anyway, this one has it all. Bizarre mood swings, psychotic behaviour, mindless violence and gags that were funny. There should have been a whole mag of this stuff; I'd've bought it!

"Right people, we need a Lego Technic slogan for 1995. Any ideas?"
*tumbleweed blows by*
*87 years pass*
"What about you, Poncingtonthorpethwaite?"
"Um...how about...'It's Technofunctionomical'?"
"No, that won't do at all. It's not a word, and it's stupid. Anything else?"
*long silence*
"Right, I guess we'll go with that then. By the way, what's 'Lego Technic'?"

Ha! Are you telling me footballers have evolved past the knuckle-dragging Neanderthal stage?

*flickknife is held to throat*

I retract my statement.

Here's a great way to promote a game. Don't show a single screenshot, but instead have a page-sized grotesque close-up of some dodgy geezer in a Santa hat who has nothing to do with the game. Well, I assume so. Perhaps he was the main coder or character designer, but I doubt it.

Oh looky here, it's a full-page ad with one of those stupid 'magic eye' pictures. Turn the page and there's another one with a big cartoon guy on it. If there's one thing that should be expunged from the world of visual arts it's those moronic stereogram things. I'm glad they're now obsolete. Anyone at my school who said they weren't fake got beat up and quite rightly! Be gone, Marko's Magic Football, and take your pseudo-3D quackery with you!

Believe it or not, this is what female gamers used to wear when they'd hit the SNES to play some lame wrestling game starring some loudmouthed goofball in a yellow tank top. Honest, guv'. Although I do tell a word of a lie. Because there actually weren't any female gamers back then. I really had to search around for the product name in this ad and when I finally found it, it was something I'd never heard of.
Coincidence??

When promoting a magazine that covered the 3DO, PlayStation, Saturn, Neo Geo, Jaguar, Ultra 64 and PC, why would you mention "hot babes". Whoever they are, they ain't comin' near anyone who plays video games. Nice try, "X-Gen"!

This one I like. Click to enlarge, and read this secret diary, which has been left open on a desk in full view. Bonus points for use of the term 'smegger'. But 20 years on, I still have no idea what "nearly hurled in the lantren" means. Over to you, British viewers!

Ho ho, Night Trap– the game named as one of the main catalysts for teenagers' allegiances to Satan himself, by pompous out-of-touch busybodies and underachieving lardcakes. Still, you would need incontinence jocks when playing it – because you'd piss yourself laughing at the stilted dialogue and ear-shredding singing. Still, gotta love that post code at the bottom there. PI5 5SS, indeed.

BEAST MAN. Behold, he cometh. He's my Year 9 Maths teacher, the one who wasn't a kiddy-fiddler. Good to see in primitive beastly days of yore, the monsters had access to ray-guns. Probably helped them slay the mighty mammoths and homo erectus easier than axes or chipped stone tools did. Also what's with that "Mastermix '92"? Makes it look like a naff dance music compilation CD. In the small print in the bottom corner, it makes a point of mentioning the Shadow Of The Beast logo is copyrighted. Relax, Psygnosis Limited. I'm fairly sure no one will be copying that.

Imagine a complete fantasy world...where ad designers used calligraphic fonts and sentences in all caps. Jeez, I know there were less typefaces available 20 years ago but at least try to make your cod Olde Worlde warrior talk legible, man.

Just one more, and I've saved the worst for last. I don't know about you, but when I peruse inane ad copy from the drones of Dunbartonshire, Scotland, I'd rather not, right off the bat, be called a "dweeb". I'm a potential customer, see. The last thing you want to be doing is have me insulted by a crudely-drawn Bart Simpson knock-off. Or maybe you would? Do you really think I'm a dweeb, badly-drawn Teenage Bart Simpson? My heart says no, but the look on your face tells me yes.

Numbered Chocolates

Regardez! Here's something interesting – numbered chocolates. French ones, made by Fauchon. I'm always up for a good secret code; what could '30965' refer to? But it turns out, each type of chocolate is numbered. There's no little card included with the names of each, but from the website you can find out that 3 = lait caramel, 5 = noir fruité, 6 = noir corsé, 0 = blanc vanille and so on. I couldn't find out what number 9 was. A secret one perhaps?

Pretty Fly (For A Wi-Fi)

Free wi-fi ad banner inside Not-By-The-Hair-Of-My-Flinny-Flin-Flinders Street Station, Melboyne.

Bill Gates with light saber. Soldier with massive feet. Cat with keyboard. Cat without keyboard. Cat head on pop tart. Case of Diet Pop with Chinese writing and an animal of some sort stuffed into it. Playing cards. Like thumb. Rocker dude with pixelated gee-tar. Baby. Twitter. Pac-Man. Alien. Ogre.

Huh?!?

Don't think I dislike this ad design though. I do like it. And it blocks my view of the coffee-swigging layabouts and weirdos that generally populate this area. Stay there, big ad!

Boys From The Dwarf

Smegheads unite! Today I joined 300 or so fans for the Red Dwarf convention, held at the Rydges Hotel in Melbourne, to see three of the show's main actors: Craig Charles (Lister), Robert Llewellyn (Kryten) and Danny John-Jules (Cat). Red Dwarf being my fave show of all time apart from The Simpsons, I couldn't pass this one up.

I'm not what you'd call a regular convention attendee. In fact this was only my fifth one. Previously I'd been to Perth's first Wai-Con (December 2004), Manifest (September 2006), Animania (April 2007) and Armageddon Multimedia Expo (October 2007). I got to meet Billy West at one of those. Try to guess which one. You might be pleasantly surprised. Or not. However, my love of collecting little toys and other kitschy items from Japan and other Asian countries has not waned in the least.

Event manager Scotty Liston had organized the show well and after he welcomed everyone we had our paid photo ops. I couldn't afford a photo with all three guys, so I chose to have my photo taken with Craig Charles. "Hi Craig, nice to meet you," I said as I stepped in front of the photographer's backdrop. "You too, man," he replied. Good stuff.

I can't remember when I first saw Red Dwarf on TV. I was no longer living in England when it first aired there in February 1988 – 25 years ago. Some of my high school friends watched it, but I still hadn't. I think it was on a trip to England in December 1996 when I finally saw an episode. In 2008, I bought all the DVDs and was a definite fan. So to see the Boys From The Dwarf in person was well worth it.

Danny brought a little spray canister, like the Cat uses. "Just making everything mine," he said, spraying various things on stage. He told us in detail how his character emerged, his previous experiences in Australia, and sang a song from Cats, which he appeared in in 1983. When he first appeared, someone called out "Hi Duane!" In the character voice, he replied "Duane? Duane Dibbley? I don't wanna be Duane Dibbley! He's a dork!"

Like Danny, Robert was extremely funny and did some great voice impersonations (including Craig), but it was a real treat to hear him do his Kryten voice – and an Australian Kryten. At home he is involved in energy conservation, telling us about his electric car, rooftop solar panels and pet chickens he had rescued from being battery hens.

Right from the off, Craig made us laugh almost continuously. It didn't take long to realize this guy is Dave Lister. No pretense here; he told us "You only need to spend five minutes in my company to realize I'm not acting!" After touching on his early years as a poet (and a couple of his poems), he moved on to Red Dwarf's early days, including reciting a bad review word for word. "Those words are burned on my soul!" he said.

Whoever that reviewer was, they can suck the big one – Red Dwarf is still going strong after 25 years. Here's to its continued success, smeg'ead.