I had high hopes for what would have been the first use of scented outdoor advertising in the United States, the campaign that was announced in November as part of the California Milk Processor Board’s “Got Milk?” campaign. If it would have succeeded, the scent of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies would have flooded select San Francisco bus shelters, under the assumption that commuters and the homeless would suddenly have a hankering for the scent of a tall, cool glass of milk. (Better yet, they would buy milk. Also, possibly, some cookies.)
But because of public outcry over “potential allergic reactions to scented products,” the Municipal Transportation Agency ordered the cookie-scented strips removed a day after they were adhered to the shelters.
I learned of this news reading one of those “well, duh” Times trend articles (“Anywhere the Eye Can See, It’s Now Likely to See an Ad” by Louise Story) about how public advertising is as pervasive as pollen in Spring. We now have it printed on eggs (CBS TV shows), subway turnstiles (Geico), Chinese food cartons (Continental), the trays used in airport security lines (Rolodex), those paper examining-table covers in doctors’ offices (Disney and Tylenol) and barf bags on airplanes (no one will admit to this one).
“Ubiquity is the new exclusivity,” quips one spunky ad agency jerk interviewed for the article.
Makes me wish I’d kept better track of the Public Displays of Advertising I’ve read about and experienced here in New York. The city’s of course home to some of the country’s most powerful ad agencies and one of the most diverse target markets, so the number of marketing stunts here are unsurprising. Even Kurt Russell couldn’t escape.
During the winter of aught-five, for example, HBO promoted Deadwood by plastering the seats and walls of an entire subway train with adhesive decals to make it resemble an Old West saloon. Granted it was the shuttle running between Times Square and Grand Central Station, the shortest train on the shortest route in the city, but it still made a splash.
We’ll take nearly anything; the city nearly agreed to allow advertising on its toll plazas, then figured its citizens had enough distraction driving angrily while checking their voicemail.
Other than the recent public-crapper campaign by Charmin, other local greats I recall since I’ve lived here are skywriting to promote some forgettable TV show, Marriott plunking down a bed on the sidewalk right outside the Marquis on Times Square, Snapple launching hot-air balloons in Bryant Park and Ocean Spray recreating a cranberry bog outside Rockefeller Center.
Why can’t people claim allergy to this crap? I am often amused by it but just as often it makes my head hurt.