Who has seen the Hammonds furniture advert? The one where a woman shows her friend her ‘amazing’, newly fitted wardrobes whilst a queue of other women wait outside for the ‘privileged’ moment when they get their own private viewing. No? Click on the link below before continuing to read further.
Seen it now? What did you think? Impressed by the spacious wardrobes for all the clothes, shoes and handbags? Eager to join the queue to take a look for yourself? If so, go away. I loath this advert.
‘Are you a dress diva, handbag hoarder or shoe lover?’ the sultry voiceover asks. Nope, not I. Not one of my closest friends would be happy being given one of those labels. Why must women succumb to these depthless descriptions? One of the meanings of ‘diva’ is ‘a self-important person who is temperamental and difficult to please’. Why on earth would you want to be described in this way, let alone be proud of it?
A woman’s life should be so much more than just the pretty objects she can buy or organising her husband’s clothes (as this advert suggests). Companies like Hammonds and adverts like this do women a disservice; they make us look shallow and superficial.
Buying birthday cards is something we all frequently do. We try to match the card to the person: their hobbies; their sense of humour; their favourite colour. This process is easy for adults due to the wide range of cards available. However, when buying cards for children, especially when wanting a card with an age on it, this process becomes confusing.
It is my cousin’s daughter’s 4th birthday at the start of May and I went to buy her a card. When standing in front of the array of cards the lack of variety was so noticeable; cards aimed at boys were red and blue with pictures of dinosaurs and cars whilst the cards aimed at girls had shades of pink and lilac with pictures of princesses and flowers. There was a clear divide with girls’ cards to the left and boys’ cards to the right. I stood looking for a while to see if there was an alternative to this gender stereotyping but, alas, I could not find anything different. I chose a card that was the lesser of many evils; a yellow number 4 with a dog painting pink and lilac flowers.
The choice of a birthday card is only something minor and many of you reading this may believe I am being too politically correct and sensitive. However, please consider one of these situations. You have a son who is a talented dancer or artist and has no interest in cars, football or dinosaurs. You have a daughter who loves superheroes, football or trains but hates the colour pink. Which card do you buy for them? You can, of course, pick an appropriate card that matches their interests; after all the choice is yours, you don’t have to follow societal conventions and norms. However, we have been conditioned to look at those two rows of cards and automatically, subconsciously, decide which are for boys and which are for girls. Viewpoints are changing, barriers are being broken, but maybe shops can do something very simple to help: mix the cards up!