The 'Daddy' of the Metrosexual, the Retrosexual, & spawner of the Spornosexual

Tag: male objectification (page 3 of 7)

Keyless Entry & Male Versatility

“I call him lollipop”

The sexualisation of the male body probes new, perfectly-rounded depths in this European ad promoting the ‘keyless entry’ feature on Ford cars.

And possibly the use of Ford key fobs as sex toys.

A remarkably well-crafted ad, it makes excellent use of the increasingly blatant modern phenomenon of metaphysical – and increasingly physical –  male versatility. How men in our spornosexual age are now active and passive. Tops and bottoms. Subjects and objects. Heroic and tarty.

Keyless Entry with Power button – Go Further

To the strains of an ‘innocent’ 1960s bubblegum pop track in which a girl compares her boyfriend to something sweet to suck, everyone on the beach, male or female, young or old, gay or straight, is having a really good look at the worked-out, oiled-up grinning hottie in the tight trunks sauntering past.

So far, so normal in a world in which the male body has become bouncy castle for the eyes.

As our beach babe approaches his car however, we realise that everyone is supposedly staring because they are wondering how he’s going to get into his locked, lovely new ride.

The obligatory, ‘objectifying’ close ups of his packet and ass served up to us beforehand have only ‘served’ to make it clear that he hasn’t got anything down his pants, save his meat and two vege – plus two pert buns.

The car greedily unlocks itself when presented with his lunch-packet. Which is entirely understandable.

But we’re staring right at his bubble butt straining against his tight trunks when this happens.

And then the kiss-off strapline spells out the anality of all this:

FORD KEYLESS ENTRY

Where you keep your key is up to you.

So the ad is less about the lollipop and more about the buttered buns. ‘Keyless entry’ is all about male versatility, if not voraciousness.

Likewise the popping sound-effect on the ‘Lollipop’ track at the end of the ad is now less suggestive of fellatio than the removal of a car fob from a toned, er, trunk.

UPDATE 28/11/15 –  The Italian campaign for this car seems to involve making a male model strip via tweets.

Britain’s Got Tarty (& Chris Hemsworth’s Got Codpiece)

I always used to wonder when watching gay porn in the 1990s how the deuce the models managed to get their pants over their chunky butch boots without removing them.

Now of course every straight male from South London learns how to do this before they can legally drink in pubs – as ‘Forbidden Nights’, an act auditioning on Britain’s Got More Talent recently demonstrated.

Why hello boys! Feeling a bit hot under the collar are we? | Britain's Got More Talent 2015

Note how the camp judge (David Walliams) is contractually bound to be ‘gay’ – regardless of the fact he’s straight. And twice the size of the rather lovely pocket-sized stripper he hugs (no doubt he had to have his suit dry-cleaned of orange body make-up).

Note also how ‘sexualised images’ of the male body – and extreme close-ups of cotton-lycra mix bulges – are now an entirely acceptable, and enthusiastically applauded, part of British prime-time family entertainment.

Something the American Phalliban successfully sabotaged in the BBC’s recent Wolf’s Hall costume drama series – spoilsport American TV execs insisted the Tudor codpieces be toned down.

Hooray for Hollywood however – they recently gave ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ Chris Hemsworth one the size of, well, the hammer of a Norse god of thunder, in the just-released ‘red band’ trailer for the forthcoming remake of National Lampoon’s (R-rated) Vacation.

That’s probably way more phallus in a few seconds than you’ll get in ninety minutes of Magic Mike XXL.

Tip: Hans Versluys

 

Man-Knockers on the London Underground

A funny thing happened to Mark Simpson on the way to the ‘Being a Man’ forum

I almost fell off the platform when I saw this bodybuilding supplements poster busting out all over the London Underground recently  – around the same time as all that indignant hullabaloo surrounding The Sun‘s infamous now-you-don’t-see-them-any-more-now-you-do-again lady busts.

There they were, depilated man-knockers (and pixelated knackers) nakedly objectified in the rush hour for all to see: men and women, children and adults, wide-eyed tourists and jaded locals. No need to buy a copy of a declining tabloid newspaper, open it and turn to page three to ‘exploit’ this model’s tits and abs. Just look up from your smartphone. Shameless male topless and bottomless-ness plastered all over the walls for everyone to ‘gaze’ at while waiting for the next obscenely overcrowded Elephant & Castle train, perhaps carrying Laura Mulvey.

Even worse, the poster encouraged other young men to objectify themselves (‘reveal yourself’), and spend their hard-earned cash buying supplements that they hope will help to make them more desirable, more saleable, more shaggable – bustier. Men are the new glamour models.

The website for the supplement company includes ‘cover model’ as one of the potential ‘goals’ that their spornosexual customers might be interested in:

‘…lean muscle has become an industry recognised term that is now synonymous with a cover model look. To achieve a cover model body, the key consideration is to increase muscle whilst keeping body fat to an absolute minimum’.

And liberal use of Photoshop.

Funnily enough, I was on my way to appear on a panel at the Southbank Centre talking about ‘Being a Man’ when I was confronted with these man-knockers. On the panel I was responding to a presentation by the artist and TV presenter Grayson Perry. Who is a bit of man knocker himself – in a more ‘critical’ sense.

Perry’s presentation (along the lines of this piece for the New Statesman) was acerbic, entertaining and not without insight, but sometimes seemed at least thirty years out of date. And I know this because I myself am only twenty years out of date.

My main issue with it was not that it problematised and pathologised masculinity and ‘toxic’ testosterone and the Sauronic ‘male gaze’ – which it did in spades – but that it reified, possibly fetishised masculinity as something unchanging, something monolithic. Sometimes the biggest critics of masculinity are its biggest believers – including cross-dressing feminist men.

Of course, I tend to notice far too much what some don’t care to see at all – and I began my comments by warning the audience that I like men. A LOT. But I was surprised how little Mr Perry seemed to understand me when talking about the eager self-objectification young men today go in for and the breakdown of what I call the heterosexual division of labour, of looking and of loving.

I wonder if he uses the tube? Or even his eyes?

Like things well built? | Made in the UK advert | Dreams

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The recently-released movie version of Fifty Shades of Grey has been attacked by some feminists for setting back ‘the cause of womanhood’ (because it features female submissiveness and male masterfulness) and for glorifying ‘abuse’ (despite being very consensual). Notwithstanding it is written by a woman, directed by a woman (Sam Taylor-Johnson), green-lighted by a woman – and of course enormously popular with women. Likewise, the rehabilitation of female masochism in the last decade or so seems to have been forgotten and replaced by suspicion of women who like their sex submissive and spanky.

I haven’t seen the movie, I’m still recovering from going to see the last ‘event’ ‘chick flick’, so can’t comment on whether or not the women involved in making it and the millions going to see are suffering from ‘false consciousness’. And obviously I don’t know much about womanhood anyway.

But I have watched the official trailer. Repeatedly. The masterful Mr Grey (Jamie Dornan) is a standard-issue spornosexual who probably has a Bulk Powders Gold Card. In the 2.23 min trailer there are 7 topless shots of his sculpted torso, including a mirror shot which gives you a simultaneous, spitroasting front and rear view of it, vs 1.5 of Ms Steele (Dakota Johnson), sans nipples in her case. Oh, and one side shot of her panties – with Dornan’s pretty face in front of them.

My favourite shot though shows him playing his grand piano shirtless, in a scene that looks a bit Behind the Candelabras – but with Liberace as the toy-boy. I suppose that the grand piano represents Ms Steele submitting to the skillful fingers of Mr Grey. But it looks like a very camp – sorry, I mean masterful – form of masturbation.

Fifty Shades Of Grey - Official Trailer 2 (Universal Pictures) HD