Have It All?

I can bring home the bacon, but only if you’re going to make dinner and do the dishes, too. While you’re at it, give the kids a bath and put them to bed.

One of the most iconic TV commercials I remember seeing as a kid was that one in which the blonde lady sings about how she can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan and never, ever, ever let you forget you’re a man. Seriously, those are the actual lyrics. The year was 1980, and I still remember the commercial all these years later, not because it was such a great ad (truthfully, I needed a quick Google search to remind me it was for Enjoli perfume) but because even at 7 years old, I think I knew the whole thing was a total Crockpot full of bullschnitzle.
Obviously this ad wasn’t just selling perfume. It was selling the you-can-have-it-all lifestyle to a new generation of women who had previously been shut out of serious positions within corporate America and were largely relegated to the domestic realm. But thanks to the women’s lib movement of the 1970s, now both realms were open to women — at the same time. This commercial was more than just a commercial; it was a sign of the times.
The fine folks at the now-defunct Charles of the Ritz company were trying to attach their product to the now-defunct idea that it’s a breeze for any woman to be a successful professional, a doting wife, an attentive mother, a gourmet cook, a meticulous homemaker and a satin gown-wearing sex-kitten — all at the same time.

Here is what the ad was really saying:

I can bring home the bacon.

Nice double-entendre, Enjoli. The first meaning of the word bacon in this line is obviously money. But perhaps, this line would have been more accurate had it said, “I can bring home 70 percent of the same bacon you can bring home even though I worked just as hard as you did for my bacon.”

The second entendre of the word bacon here is actual bacon, with the message being: “Yes, dear. I’ll stop at the market on my way home from work and pick you up some bacon.”

Fry it up in a pan.

The point here is clear. That bacon ain’t going to no fax payday loans direct lenders cook itself.

And never, ever, ever let you forget you’re a man.

After I’ve worked all day, shopped, cooked, cleaned up and read the kids a bedtime story, there’s nothing I’d rather do than spray on some atomized pheromones (aka, Enjoli), slip into that Some Like It Hot white satin number I have lying around and rock your world.

Enjoli: The eight-hour perfume for the 24-hour woman.  

This is the official tagline of the commercial. Maybe it’s just me, but the subtext here seems to be something a bit more subversive. There seems to be an implied threat here: You wanted it all, sweetheart? Well, here it all is. Be careful what you wish for.

If this commercial were to be updated for today’s world, I think it would go something more like this:

Same jazzy woman’s voice singing:

You can bring home the bacon (but don’t forget to grab a gallon of milk and some Greek yogurt on your way home).

Fry it up in a pan (Or microwave it. I don’t care. I’m ordering sushi.).

And I’ll never, ever, ever let you forget that you’re a man (with a pre-disposition for arterial sclerosis, so slow down on that bacon. And for the love of Pete, would you do some crunches once in a while?).

The tagline would also need to be changed because clearly this is now an ad for bacon. Or The American Heart Association. Or perhaps sushi. But in any case, it is no longer an ad promoting the idea that women can have it all. And thank goodness for that.
We all know that though women can have it all, we don’t want it all. We want to split it. We’ll cook. You clean. We’ll fold. You put away. We won’t let you forget you’re a man if you get up with the kids in the morning. Our trailblazing, bacon-frying, Enjoli-wearing mothers taught us that though having it all is a nice idea, the reality is fraught with booby-traps. (Oh, yes. Pun intended.) And the load is lighter when shared.
Of course, TV ads today don’t have the influence they once did anyway. Thanks to DVRs, most 7-year-old children, rather than ponder the sociological implications of a quasi-feminist-while-being-faintly misogynistic perfume ad, are more likely to ask the far more concrete question: “Mommy, what’s a commercial?”