The TV show Cashmere Mafia was interesting to me, for two episodes. Then I examined my own reactions to it and, laughing at my own folly, quit watching entirely. The show features a team of pretty leading ladies, with interesting clothing and makeup, and the occasional interesting man, escort or lesbian by their side.
It goes like this: Five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers. Then, five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers.
Cashmere Mafia is the ultimate guilt pack. You know you are being bombarded with magazine-like "You need to be skinny and rich" advertising, you know you've forgotten the plot again after the fourth minute of contiguous advertisements, and yet, you hang on for another peek at -- yes -- the earrings.
I am not gong to comment on the earrings except to say they are creative and glittery, catching a woman's envious eye. I searched the net to see if anyone actually manufactured those earrings and that's when I stopped myself short of checking on the color of Lucy Liu's lipstick or shoes. Really, what a dolt I can be.
Not that we shouldn't pay attention to all advertising! If a gray hair comes along, I am an educated consumer, and know exactly which L'Oreal Excellence *100% coverage!* box I need to buy in order to be more like my role models, those Fabulous models of earrings, those purveyors of glam.
I think if there had been just a tad fewer commercials, I might have actually remembered the plot from time to time. But then -- maybe I'm all wrong about this, and we are SUPPOSED to remember the commercials, and not the plot? God what a thought - maybe I'm getting alzheimer's... what's the cure-all commercial for that again? I forget?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
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