Playboy , Magazine Ads, and the Original Mad Man

Sure, you love the Playmate. And of course you read the articles. But what about the ads? The greatest adman who ever lived looks back over 60 years of advertising in these pages and picks out the good, the bad and the stupid

Marshall McLuhan famously said, "Historians and archeologists will one day discover that the ads of our time are the richest and most faithful daily reflections any society ever made of its entire range of activities." Certainly the advertising that has run in PLAYBOY says volumes about America over the past six decades, capturing and recycling the zeitgeist of the pervading video-age culture. In agreement with McLuhan's prediction, I decided to look at the ads that have run in PLAYBOY with a historian's eye (and a wise guy's attitude). Conceptually, PLAYBOY's raison d'être has always been to empower men and glorify the sexuality and allure of the female body--which some may now regard as chauvinistic. That perception of men's attitude toward women has, alas, been reflected in much of the advertising in the magazine. In 1960 (the inception of the blatant Mad Men brand of male chauvinism), I created an ad for a cold medicine that shows a darkened bedroom and a husband who demonstrates the prevailing cultural attitude of the time when he grouchily

orders his wife to "get up and give [their coughing kid] some Coldene." Americans were shocked at this sarcastic depiction and critique of our male-dominated culture. The company received hundreds of letters from thankful women (and sold a ton of Coldene). My wife kvelled. Read my following comments on some of the ads that have appeared in PLAYBOY. They abound in macho male imagery and body language, seemingly created to appeal to the lowest common enominator. But the admen are wrong. To me most

of the writing in playboy has been aimed not at Neanderthals but at the sharp, sophisticated, thinking men of America. So, ad agencies and advertisers, if you think people, including the readers of playboy, are dumb, you'll spend a lifetime doing dumb work. I think people (including men) are absolutely brilliant when it comes to advertising. They'll always respond to a strong central concept or image, especially if it's presented in a warm, human way. Mad men of America, take my advice.

CIGAR INSTITUTE OF AMERICA, December 1962 The smooth, confident, cigarsmoking male in contrast to the overly emotional, weak-kneed, teary-eyed female: Even in the darkest days of male chauvinism, comparing the comfort a man gets from a smoking a good cigar (cough, cough) with a woman's need to cry boggles the mind, for cryin' out loud. SEARS, September 1969 All I want to know is why that Playboy Bunny behind the plane is doing an imitation of the goofy "Kilroy was here" cartoon character. AXE, December 2010 Talk about having your mind in the gutter! JIM BEAM, October 1966 Sean Connery, in four iconic 007 movies from 1962 to 1965, made it clear that James Bond's favorite drink was a "vodka martini, shaken not stirred." Yet, probably for a handsome fee, he personally extols Jim Beam bourbon in this classy ad that appeared in playboy in 1966. I assume the Kentucky distillery considered his testimonial a coup, but I call it a sellout. (Although I convinced Joe Namath, legendary Johnnie Walker Red devotee, to do an ad for Cutty Sark that pissed off the Johnnie Walker honchos.)

DINGO, October 1977 Seeing O.J. Simpson weirdly seated, flaunting his Dingo boots, instantly reminds me of the footwear he had on when he (allegedly) murdered his wife, Nicole, in 1994. The prosecution presented a bloody footprint of a Bruno Magli shoe (only 299 pairs of that style were sold in America) from the crime scene. Simpson claimed he had never owned Bruno Maglis because they were "uglyass shoes." None of the mountain of incriminating evidence convinced the jury of his guilt, and he went free. Not long afterward, a photograph was uncovered of Simpson wearing a pair at a football game in 1993.

RONSON, May 1962 "Big Daddy" is a prime example of the prevailing macho attitude, fully confirming the male-dominated Mad Men take on the early 1960s. Hold it--holy shit, I did that ad in 1962! Oops. 7UP, November 1962 The American man: his pipe, his gun, his hunting dogs, his highball--and his damn pride in being an American. (But I bet he schemed a way to dodge the draft in the upcoming Vietnam war.)

TROJAN, December 2007 I wonder if this Trojan ad, the ultimate insult to male chauvinist pigs (as well as to the animal kingdom), in any way inspired that shit-fight in the 2008 presidential campaign involving Sarah Palin ("The difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull? Lipstick.") and Barack Obama (who commented on the fact that John McCain agreed with George W. Bush on everything, "You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig."). Whatever, it's obvious none of the pigs in this ad are going to get laid (not without wearing a Trojan). h.i.s, September 1969 This double entendre, a pun on violent political protest, must have been a standout ad in 1969, but whoever designed those trousers deserves a swift kick in the pants. CONSORT, December 1984 "Grooming Gear for Real Guys"--you need some pair of balls to get that line out of your mouth. TAREYTON, September 1964 In 1964 this image of a smiling woman with a shiner was a real punch in the eye. In 1967 I designed a knockout Esquire cover depicting Ursula Andress (of James Bond fame) with a battered eye as a symbol of the abuse of women. Did feminist groups in America commend a mass-market magazine cover that dramatized the issue of violence against women? Not really. In fact, the National Organization for Women busted my balls over it. MCS, October 1974 A "comfort spray" for a man's crotch that only a dickhead would use.

MACHO, November 1977 His-and-hers package design: macho cologne for men that doubles as a dildo for women. SCHLITZ, December 1962 A woman's (rather than a man's) hand demonstrates the new easy-open aluminum Schlitz can, clearly making the statement that it's women's duty in life to serve men. ALKA-SELTZER, December 1979 During a time of black revolution and rising racial tensions, I shocked America by depicting the surly badass Sonny Liston as the first black Santa on the cover of the December 1963 issue of Esquire. (Sports Illustrated later described the boxer as "looking like the last man on earth America wanted to see coming down its chimney.") Only 16 years later, the sight of Sammy Davis Jr. as a smiling Santa in an Alka-Seltzer ad didn't even piss off the grand wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. CRICKETEER, September 1969 Seventeen ways to prove you're an asshole. (But at least the suit looks well-tailored.)