Smokin'
Yet another of those wonderful 1968 Life magazine advertisements.
I like to think that the marketing meeting at which this advertisement was designed went something like this:
Okay, we need to create an image for Peter Stuyvesants, something young, hip and happening. I'm thinking jet-setting playboy. I'm thinking luggage tags on a Trans World Airline bag. I'm thinking travel to exotic cities.
What sort of exotic cities?
Well, let's throw about some ideas. How about Rome?
Ah, The Eternal City! Perfect! The Trevi Fountain, Audrey Hepburn on a Vespa, La Dolce Vita... that's great! But we need two cities to create the sense of travel. Where else can match Rome for that sense of romance and fashion?
New York?
London?
Paris?
Hong Kong?
I've got it! Toronto!
Of course! Toronto! City of the Royal Ontario Museum, Cabbagetown and the Hockey Hall of Fame!
Yes, and it's in Canada! Nothing says exotic glamour like Canada!
Well, that's that finished. Time for a celebratory five-martini lunch!
Hooray!
I like to think that the marketing meeting at which this advertisement was designed went something like this:
Okay, we need to create an image for Peter Stuyvesants, something young, hip and happening. I'm thinking jet-setting playboy. I'm thinking luggage tags on a Trans World Airline bag. I'm thinking travel to exotic cities.
What sort of exotic cities?
Well, let's throw about some ideas. How about Rome?
Ah, The Eternal City! Perfect! The Trevi Fountain, Audrey Hepburn on a Vespa, La Dolce Vita... that's great! But we need two cities to create the sense of travel. Where else can match Rome for that sense of romance and fashion?
New York?
London?
Paris?
Hong Kong?
I've got it! Toronto!
Of course! Toronto! City of the Royal Ontario Museum, Cabbagetown and the Hockey Hall of Fame!
Yes, and it's in Canada! Nothing says exotic glamour like Canada!
Well, that's that finished. Time for a celebratory five-martini lunch!
Hooray!
posted by Blandwagon at 2:58 PM
4 Comments:
And whatever did happen to those 5 martini lunches?
You're obviously mixing with the wrong crowd, 2barriff. The five-martini lunch is alive and well, and if you dont like it, we can take thish outshide... no, really, i luv you man... yur my besht frend... *thud* *snore*
I'm sure as you puffed away on your Peter Stufenevessit--Stufyousinit--Staffanesbit --whatever it was comforting knowing that between you and all those nasty toxins sat a 'miracle filter.'
The Miracle Filter was an important component of the cigarette, preventing miracles from crossing over from the cigarette to your mouth.
When you're looking forward to a deep lungful of rich tobacco flavour, the last thing you want is to suddenly find yourself inhaling wine, or possibly having your cataracts healed.
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