A Wife Beating Brand

Just a thought…

When I first came to the UK four years ago I didn’t know the Stella brand. I grew up in Spain and lived happy as a clam enjoying my “cañas” of icy cold Mahou, San Miguel or Aguila. I arrived with a willingness to absorb my forefather’s culture of drinking pints of ambient temperature beer whilst posing as a University student (a mission I excelled at I must ad).

Anyway, when I first saw the Stella Artois logo on a tap I was immediately drawn to it: the Frenchy name and elegant design succeeded at reeling me in. I swiftly ordered one and as I held it and sipped it I thought: “that’s a rather all right beer, not the best I’ve had but it does the trick”. That is when my mate saw me and proceeded to fill my ears with this brand’s not-so-glamorous reputation.

A wifebeater is slang for the typical tough-nuts style sleeveless shirt, yet on the wiki definition you will find another meaning: “In the UK and Ireland, the term is occasionally used as slang for the Belgian beer Stella Artois. In British culture, Stella Artois is associated with a drinking culture in which domestic abuse may follow a bout of drinking Stella Artois at the local pub.”

I’m not sure how Stella’s ‘wife beater’ association began. On the Stella wiki it speculates that the association comes from Marlon Brando’s legendary cry, “Stellaaa!”, in A Streetcar Named Desire, a film infamous for its portrayal of domestic violence. Whatever, the fact is this beer is synonymous to wife beating! Jesus!

Wouldn’t you think this kind of widespread reputation would sink the brand? Think again.

Stella Artois is the best selling premium lager in the UK beer market.

Don’t get me wrong; I hold nothing against the beer, poor Stella. I am aware, as is everyone else, that there is no secret ingredient in it that will induce a fit of misogynistic rage or that by drinking it I will be immediately tagged as scum. I mean brands can carry undesirable social associations, I just think this one is pretty hardcore. I guess even more hardcore is the fact that it survives this; wife beating has just become a tongue in cheek kind of notion.

I quite like Stella’s ads, they are quirky and characteristic. They have gone from the 1970s slogan "Stella's for the Fellas" to a the current Frenchy (though it’s Belgian?) European sophistique vibe. Some of it is actually rather highbrow, what with “Reassuringly Elephant”, the surrealist version of “Reassuringly Expensive”. It ties in strategically, seeing as a lot of work has gone into tying Stella to excellence in cinema. All the ads make cunning references to famous old films. It’s worked well, high five to the planners, but it hasn’t made everybody forget the wife beatings. I will come back to this is a second.

I just want a quick look at the above mentioned strap line. Now, this is in line with the up-market sophisticated image of the recent campaigns. It makes sense, the thing is, is it really expensive? It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it to me (I don’t have the facts and figures to parade but I have done my homework). Does this not mean that this is just a disingenuous lie? Is saying that a beer is expensive when it’s pretty mid-range not promoting a fake feeling of quality? Oh wait, maybe it's just hilariously sarcastic. It didn’t strike me this way at first, I thought it rather charming, but on closer inspection and after reading the article that follows it did hit me.

So, I was reading thelondonpaper on the tube and I came across this article. It talks of the unprovoked attack on a teenage girl by a bunch of thugs, the attacker himself was “clutching a Stella Artois beer”, he is even pictured with it. A real piece of PR.

It made me think two things, apart from the general disgust this type of person provokes in me.

1) Would the writer of this article have bothered mentioning the brand if it was let’s say, a Fosters, and not the stigmatised Stella?

2) And, if it is absolutely clear that the Stella brand and wife beatings are inextricably associated in pop culture, despite the polished Frenchy-filmy stuff, shouldn’t the brand communications take a stand on this?

Now, for a moment think about this. Imagine, bizarrely that Stella resolved that enough was enough and decided to tackle not only its reputation (making it European and pseudo-expensive hasn’t done it) but to tackle the subject head on. Sure, Stella doesn’t make men hit women, it is beer like many others, and it also doesn’t want to lose the actual wife beating ‘market niche’ (cringe). Fair enough. But what if it took a stand against this kind of behavior by setting its advertising agency’s powerful creative communications engine on this socially responsible quest? What if it overcame the obstacles and dangers this challenge would pose for the brand and succeeded at promoting responsible and, blimey, civilized behavior in all, or most, of it’s drinkers?

Wouldn’t that be exciting?

And also, wouldn’t it be a brave, brilliant and rewarding challenge to take on as a planner?

Just a thought…

(TMS) Time Machine Syndrome

I have experienced TMS too many times in my life to be able to go on without coining it. I am sure everyone will know exactly what it is but have spent their lives wasting their breath on long winded descriptions of the sensation, the vertigo the bewilderment - so have I. Wasted breath no more, what did people say before the existence of emotionally consolidating words like 'Love', 'Nostalgia' or 'Deja Vu'?

So, as a tribute to the great H.G. Wells (why not?), I define the "Time Machine Syndrome" as the sensation that Alexander Hartdegen must have had as he travelled forward in time at a break-necking speed. Particularly the speed at which changes happened which he didn't witness, for example when he blinked or looked the other way only to look back and see the that a whole chunk of time, in his perception, seemed to have gone missing.

This goes for anyone's life without the need for a time machine. It is the sensation of looking upon an aspect, facet, or element of one's existence only to be blown away by the speed at which time has gone by. This may be seen by the unregistered changes that have taken place or by the sheer amount of time that has gone by unnoticed.

Changes in your loved ones, the amount of time since you have spoken to them, hobbies, physical places, meta-physical places, introspection, real laughter. TMS applies to everything that makes one stop and say "Hey, where did all this time go?" or "Who the Shit pressed Fast-Forward?”

Why a Syndrome? You ask. Why not just the "Time Machine Feeling" or "Chronodisplasia" (of sorts - great book by the way)? Because I believe this sensation is symptomatic of the times we are living in, where our lives are fast paced roller-coaster experiences choc-a-bloc with information and barely enough time to process it. This is all good, except for the fact that we may be so busy living that we miss the mile-stones and the scenery around us. It's all about the journey not the destination, right? In human lives as far as we know it (except if you are a spiritual-religious - although these two seem to have scarce connections - phantasmagorian) this is the case, so if we spend our time staring at the highway asphalt don't we miss all the fun?

Zen teaches, or Shows (an important semantic gap according to my Zen maven) the art of living "here and now" and really enjoying every moment before it's all gone. It's fair enough to say that it would have been easier to live that way chilling out up a mountain in China but is pretty tough in the heat of modern urban life. Zen however, could be used in everyday life by everyone if only it were more embedded in Western culture. Shame it isn't. The bottom line of Zen (or the modern non-monk-person Zen) is looking into the beauty of the seemingly mundane, and making the best out of life mentally, physically, and spiritually.

Just a quick quote (as far as I remember it) from "Two and a half men", Alan is whining about Jack's luck and ability to be happy and he says; "When he gets lemons he makes lemonade, when I get lemons I just suck them inside out". Sour.

Coming back to the point, this Syndrome is not a genetic pathology, but it is perhaps a symptom of a greater mental-physical and spiritual pandemic afflicting the peoples of this mad world. Then again, it may just be a consequence of not taking enough breaks from the fast lane to take a good picture or two.

What compelled me to coin TMS now? I think I'm generally OK in these respects, I firmly believe that acknowledging the problem makes great strides towards solving it, but life has many walks. The last post on this blog project (an initiative to voice and vent with the exclusive excuse of outright self indulgence) was a year and nine months ago. Ouch.

Really, it feels like...well, without much further a do; it feels like a bout of TMS.