Last month, during a brief stay in Italy to visit my family, I noticed a disturbing new trend in advertising: creams designed to “lift” breasts and buttocks.
The last time I had seen a print ad for a similar product, I was in my early teens: in the back pages of all the popular teen magazines, I would see ads for X-ray glasses (destined for boys, to see through the clothes of women) and various “miracle” creams designed to accelerate puberty and turn a flat chested girl into a Pamela Anderson-like bombshell. My friends and I would dismiss this as utter rubbish (with the exception of a hopeful pimply faced boy in my class who once purchased X-ray glasses and brought them to school. Sadly, they didn’t work).
Fast-forward to today. Imagine my shock, when, while sitting in my dentist’s waiting room, I see that ads for creams to “increase breast size” are peppering the pages of virtually all the women’s magazines I pick up. Even more surprising? These creams belong to major (read: well respected) cosmetics companies.
Some examples (note: one of the photos below is a bit graphic, showing a nipple, so NSFW for those of you in the United States. Us Europeans are used to a lot worse)
The Title: “Dalla Ricerca COLLISTAR” (“from Collistar’s Research Team” – thus legit, no?)
“La rivoluzionaria novità che rassoda e solleva il seno” = “The revolutionary new product that firms and lifts breasts”
“più alto 2,7 cm” = “1,1 inch higher”
“più voluminoso +1cm” = “1/2 inch more volume”
“più sodo per il 90% delle donne testate” = “firmer breasts for 90% of women tested”
And now, let’s look at the pretty little asterisks that accompany each claim. Mind you, you may need eyeglasses to read those teeny tiny scribbles at the bottom of the page:
“Test clinico-strumentali” = gibberish? Well, let’s say clinical tests conducted on 20 women at an important Italian university. “An important Italian university”? WTF? Also: “maximum values reported after 60 days”. Whatever that means.
Let’s look at another ad, this one from Pupa, a cosmetics company that usually targets teenage girls and women in their 20s-early 30s:
This ad uses a similar language – as well as outrageous claims:
* Maximum value found in 3 subjects out of 35. Median value: 1 cm.
*** Tests are self-evaluations of 35 women during 8 weeks.
The self-evaluation part is what interests me. Because, whenever you see claims about anti-wrinkle creams, or anti-cellulite creams, or any other potion on the market (creams to increase breasts, buttocks, make your hair fuller, etc.) the percentages the ads refer to are not objective scientific findings. No. All beauty companies – big and small – use the results of self-evaluations in their marketing campaigns.
I once saw a documentary on TV that featured a French lab where they test 90% of cosmetics on the market. Women who participate in the study are given loads of free samples and usually return to the lab after 2 months to fill out a questionnaire about their satisfaction with a given product. A smiling lab attendant asks questions about one’s satisfaction (with yes/no answer) and then the results are compiled. In the documentary in question, a turtle-faced woman in her 60s say that the anti-wrinkle cream she had used had shown positive results. I couldn’t believe it. It’s ALL SUBJECTIVE: no scientific tests are carried out to confirm the claims. After all, if creams could actually reduce wrinkles, lift breasts, eliminate cellulite, why would women resort to expensive and intrusive procedures like Botox, breast implants and liposuction?
What these cosmetics companies are actually selling is HOPE.
After all, Charles Revson, founder of Revlon once said: “In the factory we make cosmetics; in the drugstore we sell hope.”
For an insightful article about the misleading marketing practices of cosmetics companies, click here.
It’s the same with the breast creams above. A few more examples:
What to do about this? Send your complaints to consumers’ associations.
According to news site News.co.au, Australian consumer group Choice sent three women to thirty clinics in the Brisbane and Melbourne areas to investigate cosmetic surgery practices. The women, passing off as prospective patients, would inquire about treatments such as liposuction, breast augmentation and Botox.
The results were quite shocking. The article reports:
Choicespokesman Christopher Zinn said the most remarkable statement to any of the women was that she would have an improved chance of finding a partner if she had her breasts enlarged.
“It’s incredibly surprising that a doctor would say that. Talk about playing to people’s insecurities,” Mr Zinn said.
Most concerning was failure to explain the dangers, such as leakage and scarring.
“Given the known risks and the unwillingness of some cosmetic surgeons to discuss them, there needs to be stronger regulation,” Mr Zinn said.
From Arabianbusiness.com : “Middle East beauty industry to hit $2.9bn in 2009″
Excerpt:
According to official statistics, the sales of cosmetics and perfumes across the Middle East touched $2.1 billion last year.
The sector enjoys the highest per capita consumption in the region with an average purchase of around $334 (AED1,227) per person.
The largest market is Saudi Arabia estimated to be worth more than AED7.3 billion, while the industry is expected to exceed AED3.3billion in the UAE by the end of next year, according to EPOC Messe Frankfurt, organisers of the Beauty World Middle East.
UAE = United Arab Emirates.
It’s too bad that the article does not mention specifics about best selling products. A close friend, who is now living in Dubai, tells me about the incredible popularity of skin whitening creams – perceived to give darker skinned women a boost in their careers and love life, just like in India.
Also, plastic surgery is rampant in the Middle East, amongst wealthy, upper crust women: the most popular procedure? Rhinoplasty (nose jobs) to give them a more “Western” appearance. Botox and liposuction are also on high demand.
Watch the commercial from Fair & Lovely for their Middle Eastern market:
(Remember: Fair & Lovely is owned by Unilever, the parent company of Dove and its “Real Beauty” products. For more on Dove’s hypocrisy and duplicity, check out this older post.)
“The Swan.” “I Want a Famous Face.” “Dr. 90210.” “Extreme
Makeover.” “Nip/Tuck.” The list goes on. These are a few of the TV shows that have
examined, and promoted, the bene?ts of plastic surgery in recent years. University of Southern California professor Julie Albright believes the shows are driving women to go under the knife to conform to a heightened de?nition of beauty, one that is increasingly dif?cult to attain.
[...]
“Women are being taught to access power and status through their looks, “ Albright believes. “Before women might buy a Louis Vuitton purse to show off their ‘status.’ Now they might buy new breasts as a sign of their success.”
At the very least, these shows act as an advertisement for the plastic surgery industry, Albright says. At the most these shows impose unrealistic beauty standards that make people question their own bodies while giving them an instruction manual on how to change their appearance.
“Yeah, those boiled faces!” she says, when I bring up the tricky subject of her female colleagues’ waxwork skin. “Scary. They go in [to see their doctors] saying: make me look like myself – or like myself 20 years ago. But you know, I have a movie out now and I can’t bear to watch it. I see myself up there, and it’s not normal to scrutinise your own face on a screen this big; it’s like opening a vein. So I do have some compassion for Nicole Kidman, or whoever, who has obviously looked at her face and sort of dissected it, like it’s a thing. I don’t want to be the poster child for wrinkles, and that’s what they make you if you speak out about that whole culture. So I don’t, mostly. But it has gotten so ridiculous as a job. [At the film festivals] the celebrities are dragging their movies in, going ‘look at this!’ instead of the movie being the thing, and they’re just there to support it. It’s a case of: ‘Look at my dress, at my hair, at my face and … oh, by the way, there’s a movie here, too!’ I have this character in my head. She keeps appearing places: on trains, in the city, on the highway. I see her out there. She is heroic, but not like any hero we’ve ever seen. Society makes women of a certain age invisible. It’s convenient. Remember our mothers? How inconvenient they were to us? It’s like that, on a grand scale. In the early part of my life I carried the flame for fiery women: perky women who were not dumb. And now I feel like I could be the woman to play this role: the invisible woman.” Only no one is writing these kinds of parts. “Roles for women. There aren’t any. They’ve been saying that since the 1920s, and it’s true. [My theory is that] women don’t write enough. Because who do they expect to write these roles? Men?”
