Came across a little gem that truly embraces the 'desired consumer' concept (Aside: Excerpt is from Mehta's 'Maximum City' , a book that brings Mumbai, the maddest metropolis, to life)
A recent magazine advertisement for an Ambassador car, the sturdy workhorse of the Indian roads, illustrates what I mean. The car, an unadorned version of a 1950s Morris Oxford, is trundling along a rain-drenched street. The ad copy doesn't devote the usual lascivious attention to leather seat covers, digital dashboards, electronic fuel injection, or the trim lines of the car's design. The Ambassador is actively ugly but lovable in the way elephants are, with a jaunty visor and a wide grin. Instead, there is a snatch of dialogue from within the car. Three people can be seen squashed together on the front bench seat. A man crosses in front of the ungainly pachyderm, holding a briefcase over his head to ward off the downpour.
"Arrey... isn't that Joshi?" "Yes. Let's take him also."
"But we are so many."
"Have a heart, we can always adjust."
Car ads in most countries usually focus on the luxurious cocoon that awaits you, the driver, once you step inside. At most, there might be space for the attractive woman you'll pick up once you're spotted driving the flash set of wheels. The Ambassador ad isn't really touting the virtues of space. It's not saying, like a station wagon ad, that it has lots of spare room. It's saying that the kind of people likely to drive an Ambassador will always make more room. It is really advocating a reduction of personal physical space and an expansion of the collective space. In a crowded city, the citizens of Bombay have no option but to adjust.
Marrying car with community instead of boasting about nonexistent product advantages. Superb.
