GUEST COLUMN: "The Spoils of the Television Advertising War

In a time and place where women have more opportunities than ever before, more to accomplish, more to become, more battles closer to the glory of victory, I find it hard to believe that we are also more insecure. We're just not happy with ourselves. Turn on the television and you can't help being bombarded by the multi-billion dollar industry which feeds off of that unhappiness. In a good hour of TV, you'll find out that you have bad breath, split ends, cracked nails, gray hair, wrinkles, body odor and your maxi pad leaks. It's no wonder that we're all a neurotic mess. The ad campaign that always really gets me is for Clairol. They've got some blond bimbette on the screen telling me how wondrous I'll feel if I would just dye my hair. She actually had the chutzpah to tell me that I'll be "You. Only better." So, I say to her, "Look, if I read a book, I'll be me, only better. If I plant a tree, take a walk, listen to music, or help a friend, I'll be me, only better. I think picking my nose would be a more profound experience than using your product." I mean, let's face it ladies. If we use Clairol, we won't be us, only better. We'll be us, only with a different hair color. How about the Oil of Olay ad campaign. Again they have another woman telling me what's wrong with my life. This time she says, "I don't intend to grow old gracefully. I intend to fight it every step of the way." So I say to her, "Why? Have you nothing else do to? Why don't you fight racism, or environmental destruction? Why don't you forget about those inevitable facial wrinkles for a moment and devote some of that energy towards fighting the daily suppression of women by the marketing industry?" Then my sister comes in. "Ab, are you talking to the TV again?" The problem is that the marketing industry which specifically sells to women is rooted in a sort of mental cruelty. They tell us what we are supposedly suffering from over and over again until we believe it, and then they try and sell us their miracle cure. It's as if they're hitting us over the head with a club and then turning around and trying to sell us a bag of ice for the bruise. What kind of fools with large disposable incomes do they take us far? Unfortunately, the madness doesn't end with Oil of Olay and Clairol shade #24. I actually met a girl last year who had her eye lashes dyed once a month. In fact, women feel so bad about the way they look that they're driven to surgically alter their appearance. So your nose is "too big" and your breasts are "too small." Is life that bad you're going to cut your body over it? For many women the answer is "yes." I guess the reality of the whole appearance obsession is that eventually, we're all going to be old. We're all going to be gray and wrinkled and have you know what hanging down to you know where. And when that time comes, I want to have more to look back on than a life of acrylic nails and face lifts. I want to be the Grandma who sat on the Supreme Court or argued in front of it. I want to be the Grandma who wrote a book and plays the electric guitar. I want to be the Grandma who fought for something important, who made a difference, not the Grandma with the youngest looking skin. So come on ladies. Let's tell the marketing industry that we will no longer be condescended to and taken advantage of. Let's tell them that if we ever, ever have to hear Cindy Crawford sing again, they'll regret it. And for once, let's keep our beautiful heads held high, keep our money in our pockets, and tell 'em to stick the wrinkle cream where the sun don't shine, because we're happy just the way we are. By Abigail Silverman. Wharton sophomore from Cleveland, ohio.