Don't care for the ads

Sometimes the ads really get me down. The ones on TV. And not so much the ones that show two people in deep loopy love: you know, commercials for things like diamonds, commercials that try to convince us that your love is not truly profound or even real until you have blinged it up with the right sorts of commodities (generally expensive commodities, of course). I hate those too, don't get me wrong. Those, however, don't bring me down. They mostly make me mad, because with their emphasis on high-dollar material expressions of love they, in fact, cheapen the emotion.


The ones that bring me down are the ones that show groups of people enjoying . . . everything: enjoying a night on the town; enjoying a meal out; enjoying a family gathering; enjoying watching sports, ferchrissakes; enjoying being together.  They appeal to our desire to belong. The kind of enjoyment is often signaled by lighting. The family at the Olive Garden is bathed in warm light, as if that light itself is the shared love that causes the laughs to flow so easily, the affection between members to be so clearly on display. Cool light often seems allied with urban settings: we see a group of friends, their camaraderie obvious in their laughter, in the eye contact, as they enjoy the nightlife or make their way energetically down a city street, the city around them representing a universe of possibilities for shared fun. Commercials for alcohol especially seem to use this trope. Yes, they more commonly, it seems, use humor and/or sex to sell alcohol; I'm referring to the ones that use the characters' status as part of a group, a group that is having fun... Here is one from Singapore, for a change of pace:

I can't say that my life has never resembled anything we see in those ads. Well, the shared atmosphere in the ads with families remains pretty damn unfamiliar. I always felt like an outsider in my family, even as a child. Alienation begins at  home! But I can say I have had a few moments with, well acquaintances, moments that might resemble what we see in the ads with groups of friends: the people strolling down the city street laughing, enjoying a few drinks together in a bar, just sitting around hanging out and chatting. I've been in that setting. But not often. It is safe to say that for the most part my life has looked nothing like what we see in these ads: the sense of community, the sense of belonging, that these ads conjure  has been mostly missing in my life.

I know. I know. NOBODY'S life resembles TV ads.  I know: THAT is how ads work: they show us something that we lack but that we can be made to want, something that is probably unattainable. They intend to make us feel as though our lives do not measure up; they insist that we are lacking—our hair not fluffy enough, our skin not smooth enough, our waists not narrow enough, our armpits not perfumed sufficiently, our breasts not large enough—and in the fertile soil of that manufactured self-doubt they plant the thought that whispers to us: "All you need to do is buy these products and you will be made whole, and you will finally be happy."

And yet, as I said,  I have had a few moments like the ones in the beer commercials, moments laughing with a group of ... acquaintances. But I've never really had a group of friends like that. And this may be the genius of commercials: they need to show us something that seems attainable, even if it is unattainable for most and barely attainable for a few.  If they dangled something before us that was too distant, too unreal, we would not ever think, "My life could be like that." So when I see the alcohol commercials, in particular, I do in fact think, "Why is my life NOT like that? I've DONE that, dammit. Why is my life not like that??""

But I am dysthymic, and that is why my life cannot be like that. Groups of friends are bound together by shared joys felt in shared experiences. Dysthymics do not feel the same joys. It's not that we don't enjoy things... but it is somehow not the same. Especially in groups. Early on I figured out that I did not do well in groups. The best outcome for me at a high school party was to end up sitting quietly talking with one person; preferably a girl! Get me one-on-one and I'm fine, friendly, warm, even at times charming!  That may be why the diamond commercials do not bother me so much: they show me something I have experienced, really, fully experienced. The possibility that I may never experience that again is disheartening.  But I do know those moments exist, though I also know they ultimately are inadequate grounds for enduring love. However, the group dynamic ads: they do bother me, because they show me something that I've almost experienced and, more to the point perhaps, something I SHOULD have experienced. Are we not social creatures?

Of course this all repeats very familiar critiques of advertising: the way ads damage women, especially, by creating unattainable body images, leading to low self-esteem. According to this Wiki page 1 out of 3.8 ads "has a message about attractiveness." The ads present an "ideal" that is far from attainable for most people, leading people to feel inadequate.

This has been studied in terms of body image and such; I wonder if anyone has looked at ads and the ideals they project about togetherness and group bonding. At the way ads can make people feel affectively inadequate.  Am I the only one who sees these "ideal" groups of people in the commercials and turns away feeling broken?