I don't often write feminist posts, mainly because there are so many better bloggers out there doing a damn fine job of such issues, but from time to time something will get my goat so much I am forced to put virtual pen to virtual paper.
I have written before of my angst at TV adverts, but mostly adverts grate or confuse me. It isn't very often that adverts anger me (kids cereals adverts aside). Kentucky Fried Chicken managed to piss me right off last night.
If you haven't seen the commercial it shows a pretty, youngish women going about her day to the soundtrack 'She's a Lady'. A day that seems inexplicably full of encounters with misogynistic wankers at every turn. Quite where this timid mouse of a woman's voice has gone to tell such tossers where to get off, who can say? However, after suffering humiliation after humiliation at the hands of the stronger sex, she remarkably finds a beacon of light, a solace of feminism if you like, as she passes a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet.
What she sees in the window of the fast food joint that is so inviting to her as a lowly female is unclear, maybe they have refurbished and have Cath Kidston tablecloths? Perhaps there are free copies of OK and Heat to read, or gosh, how about one of those feet pedicure things where fish eat all the dead skin off your cracked heels while you polish off a family bucket?
All we, the humble female viewers know, is that Kentucky Fried Chicken now welcomes women with some rather shite looking BBQ ranch chicken - it's not known if women are actually allowed to eat anything else.
I have to confess that my knowledge of the Colonel's establishments is limited as I have NEVER eaten a KFC in my life nor visited one of their outlets, but from what I can recall they are places where monosyllabic acne-ridden teenagers work, groups of youths hang around outside till the small hours and drunken fights break out most weekend nights.
Not particularly female friendly!