His & Her Marketing: Or How Commercialism Can Make You Feel Like a Bathroom Towel His & Her Marketing: Or How Commercialism Can Make You Feel Like a Bathroom Towel
by Talia M. Wilson

If you've visited the bookstore lately, you might have seen the table stacked with blue and green boxes, flanked by a sign stating 'Help Yourself.' Yes, I'm talking about the campus trial pa[c]ks - blue for him and green for her.

You might ask, what's so special about a box of coupons a free samples geared toward 'post adolescents'? Why should differences between the two pa[c]ks even matter? Before I answer that question, let's first examine the contents of the pa[c]ks.

Both do contain similar items, such as an AOL trial, Garnier shampoo (dandruff for him, fortifying plus conditioner for her), new Ice Breakers Unleased gum (Mintesity for him, Winteractive for her), and a bunch of coupons, including ones for magazines, the "Animal House" DVD, contacts, and BMG Music Service.

Another similar item is a sample of DayQuil and NyQuil, which included a double-sided door hanger that also functions similar to a white board. The only differences are the captions: 'I do it in my sleep!' and 'I keep going and going!' for him, and 'Guess who I'm sleeping with?' and 'I'm doing it all day!' for her.

Remaining items in the blue box include a sample of Adidas Skincare and Old Spice deodorant, while those remaining in the green box include yeast infection information and a Tampax Pearl sample.

So, what does all this stuff have to do with commercialism, other than implying that guys have B.O. and girls should use a certain brand of tampons? Quite simply, they reinforce the notion that sex sells, and everyone's body image/appearance should be a carbon copy of one defined by society.

Commercialism, especially when dictated by gender, deals not only with the marketing of products but how they are marketed, which includes the research and study of consumers. Market researchers compile their data into the 'ideal' consumer and market their product accordingly. For example, distributing the trial pa[c]ks for free falls under the assumption - whether true or not - that most college students have little money and would benefit from the enclosed products. And if they don't, it won't matter; the fact that the samples and advertisements are being seen will increase the likelihood that they will eventually be purchased or at least influence similar products' purchase. In other words, it all boils down to how literate researchers are about their consujmers, the presumptions accompanying that as well as consumer literacy, if applicable.

Gender-determined commercialism, as in this case, uses certain products and/or advertisements to suggest a variety of attitudes and assumptions - again, whether true or not - about consumers, such as women are more concerned about sexual/reproductive health, while men should concentrate on looking and smelling good.

But seriously, don't worry about what isn't in your green or blue box. That thing was specifically designed for the broke, unkept, sleep-deprived college student with bad breath and no social life, or perhaps one without an AOL buddy list. (Doesn't sound like you? That's OK. Obviously, those researchers didn't factor Greeners into their initial research study. Go figure!) This example of commercialism may inspire you to switch brands of chewing gum or tampons, but it shouldn't forever alter your life. After all, it's just a little harmless cardboard trial pa[c]k.

[] denotes copy editing change in print version

Copyright © 2003-2004, Talia M. Wilson
published in Cooper Point Journal, Dec. 4, 2003

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