the real (blokey) mccoy

19 03 2007

There’s an unpleasant advert doing the rounds for McCoy’s crisps in which a blokey bloke in a blokey pub accidentally puts a romantic song on the jukebox and is whisked away for his mistake.

It might make you want to eat some straightforward, blokey crisps, but it certainly wouldn’t make me want to go to that pub, or hang round with the blokey blokes we see on screen. Sure, it’s a reaction to girly crisps with silly flavours and crazy herbs on and half a calory per pack or something, but it seems a bit extreme.

The ad presents a world where men are closed off and impenetrable alpha males jockeying for power within their relationships. After the unfortunate bloke is whisked away up a giant tube by the god of blokey blokes, his blokey mates return to their conversation without comment, one of them demanding of the others “So we all set for Tuesday then?” in a tone that is more challenge than invitation.

Why does being a bloke mean never letting your guard, or the side, down? You won’t catch me in that pub.




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