Unnecessary Critique: Champale's Ad Campaigns
Oh my god, Champale, you are blowing up class like a tuxedo atom bomb set to Vivaldi in a Parisian ballroom during a millionaire's birthday party on New Year's Eve. So tasteful, so elegant, so malt liquor-y... you are the faux-champagne curse of the working class, but in a top hat made of money. Your ad campaigns from the late 60s and early 70s, on the other hand, were awful. So much so, they came all the way back around to awesome. They're awesomely awful, in other words, and we here at ZFS want to take a long, hard, throbbing look at them because it's Monday and we're sleepy and that seems way easier than like actually doing stuff or whatever. So, let's get our unnecessary critique on, fine living-style!!!
This is one of the best examples of cuts-both-ways advertising I've ever seen. What they're trying to say... or, rather, what they want you to BELIEVE they're trying to say... is that Champale is the perfect drink for celebrating the everyday existence of life on this wonderful planet Earth. Every day is a party, every day deserves a little class, particularly at such affordable prices. That's one way to read the above ad. The OTHER way to read it... which, incidentally, is more accurate... is like this: "Champale. You Have Nothing To Celebrate, So You Might As Well Drink This." In other words, your life is miserable to the point where buying a gussied up cousin of Colt 45 counts as a reason to be thrilled your alive. Seriously, there isn't a single thing in your life that brings you joy. You're a dead man walking, a shell of a human turned away from all that is goodness and light. Here, you might as well have a Champale. Because what else are you going to do? Succeed? Ha ha ha heh hoo... right... drink up, pal. Celebrate nothing with it. Celebrate!!!
You might have to actually read the whole text of the thing to truly understand it's glory, but in case you don't feel like studying ad-copy from 1968, allow me to summarize: The gist is that the Boss (pictured) won't give you (the reader) a raise because he sees you drinking what he believes to be champagne at your desk everyday and, thus, assumes you're living the good life and aren't in need of any extra cash. Now, absorb what's going on here... the Boss isn't taking issue with the fact that you're drinking every day at your desk. No, he's taking issue with the fact you appear to be drinking a higher quality of booze than him! OH MY GOD why wasn't I an adult in the 60s?!?! It was a magical drunkard's dreamworld where nobody cared and doctors prescribed whiskey for everything from Polio to alcoholism. My liver is trying to eject out my navel just thinking about it.
#3 and #4